Sacrifices
by SamJNick
Summary: Friends and family reunite with a new purpose.
1. A Brief Encounter

The train announced its arrival at the station with a loud blast of its horn __

Okay, people. Here is the first chapter of my little Resident Evil story. I've lifted a few character details from the S.D. Perry books, mostly as background information for later happenings. The first few chapters are not very exciting, as they're just to lay the groundwork. Please feel free to review, criticize, rant, compliment, etc.

All characters belong to Capcom (insert your favorite legal rhetoric here) and this story is purely for my enjoyment. Hopefully yours, too. 

****

Sacrifices

Chapter 1: A Brief Encounter

The train announced its arrival at the station with a loud blast of its horn. A young woman stepped outside from the waiting room to stand on the platform as the massive engine hissed to a halt. Her auburn hair blew wildly about her face as her dark eyes scanned the doorways watching the passengers disembark. The early morning air was bitter cold, not the kind of weather she enjoyed, but it was not the frigid air that made her muscles tense. The person she was looking for finally emerged and she waited for any signs of trouble. As if reading her thoughts, the others eyes sought hers, holding them for a moment…then, he smiled.

She watched as he turned back towards another figure still coming down the steps, offering his free hand as he clutched a duffel bag with the other. His hand was playfully swatted away and he stepped back as his travelling companion hopped down the last stair and stood next to him. She started towards them, a smile beginning to form on her chilled face.

The body slamming into her was completely unexpected. She cursed out loud as the man's massive weight propelled them to the ground. Moving as quick as she knew how, the young woman wrapped her arms around him as they went down, twisting her body and landing on top of him. She reached into her coat to draw the gun holstered under her arm as the sound of running footsteps grew louder behind her.

"Jill, no!" She froze, instinctively obeying the familiar voice. She took a deep breath and, with practiced ease, willed her adrenaline soaked body to steady itself. Slowly removing her hand from the cool handle of her pistol, Jill Valentine glared at the man who lay beneath her, noticing his eyes were wide with alarm.

"Are…are you all right, Miss?" he asked, breathlessly. Jill began to lift herself up, aided by a strong pair of hands clutching her from behind.

"Yes, I'm fine!" she responded, hotly. "Mind telling me why you just bowled me over?" 

"So much for keeping a low profile", murmured a deep voice from behind her. Jill spun around, her abrupt encounter momentarily forgotten. A pair of smoky blue eyes regarded her, twinkling with a small glimmer of amusement.

"Chris…" she whispered. Jill found herself being pulled into the strong, warm embrace of Chris Redfield. Her taut muscles began to relax a bit as she responded to his enthusiastic greeting. They stayed locked together for a moment until a voice from nearby cleared its throat. In unison, both turned to the source of the intrusion. Chris' companion was helping the man who had crashed into Jill to his feet. The young brunette looked him over briefly and gave him a pat on the back.

"Are you ok?" she asked. The man continued to brush his coat, giving her a weak smile.

"Yes, thank you" he replied. "I slipped on a patch of ice. Very clumsy of me." He turned to Jill, his facial expression a mixture of apology and embarrassment. He reached his hand out to her and she stepped toward him, accepting it.

"I'm very sorry" he offered, shaking her hand briskly.

"Apology accepted. Sorry if I over-reacted. The cold weather makes me a bit cranky." The man chuckled, knowingly. 

"Well…ah, good day, then." He turned and headed towards the train. Jill watched his retreating back for a moment and then turned her attention to the other woman. 

Although they had never met before, the face was familiar to her, having seen it on almost a daily basis. Chris had a picture of her on his desk back at the RPD. It was actually a picture of the two of them, smiling happily, each with an arm around the others shoulders. Seeing her now in person, Jill couldn't help but notice the changes. The young woman's face looked weary and tired, her eyes shifting nervously, as if looking for someone. She was not quite the same carefree young girl she used to be, Jill noted.

"Claire…" Jill started. "How are you?" She knew the younger Redfield had been through some terrifying experiences, although she still didn't know the whole story. She, Chris and Barry had been in Ireland gathering information and making contacts when Chris suddenly took off, leaving a cryptic note about some trouble in Paris. After several weeks went by he finally contacted them through a series

of brief messages on the Internet, really just enough to arrange a meeting place. It was only dumb luck when Jill had stumbled upon a communication from a man named Leon, apparently a friend of Claire's, who tipped Chris off as to his sisters whereabouts. She and Barry had agonized over the decision to let Chris handle it on his own. But, in the end, they knew he had gone alone for a reason. Going in unprepared, without knowing what they were up against, greatly increased their chances of being captured or killed. If that happened, who would be left to fight? 

"I'm better now. The train ride made me nauseous." Claire answered. "So you're the Jill Valentine I've heard so much about, huh?" She shot Chris a quick grin.

"Well, I'm not sure what you've heard, but this was not the best introduction I could have hoped for" Jill replied, looking casually over her shoulder.

"Oh, I don't know…" Chris interjected. "Claire knows you've got quick reflexes."

Jill ignored his comment. "We should get going. You can fill me in on the way." She walked across the platform and headed down the stairs towards the parking lot. Chris began to follow, reaching his hand out to Claire.

"Ready to go?" he asked. She paused, looking at his outstretched hand, a dark look forming on her face. "What is it, Claire?"

"What are we going to do?" Her gaze drifted to look at nothing in particular.

Chris studied his sister's face, carefully. She had dark circles under her eyes, betraying the sleep deprivation she had been suffering from recently. Her normally sturdy, athletic body was showing signs off recent weight loss. A bit too quickly for his liking, but she had chalked it up to all the travelling they had been enduring. His eyes were drawn to the scar she now sported just above her left eye. It was about three inches long, still showing some angry redness. She should have had stitches, but given their situation at the time, that had not been possible. Not for the first time, he silently prayed he would be able to get her through this, along with himself.

"Right now, we're going somewhere to get some rest. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in quite a while or a decent meal for that matter…" He paused, waiting for her to look back at him. She finally lifted her gaze to meet his. He smiled at her, beckoning with a wave of his hand. "Neither have you…so, come on, before Jill leaves without us." Claire batted his hand away, gently, giving him a little smile.

"Lead the way, Brother." 

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I know it's brief, but there will be more. Later, folks.


	2. A Walk in the Woods

"Wesker is alive

"Wesker is alive?" Jill's voice was barely a whisper as her hands jerked the wheel suddenly. She steadied herself and tore her gaze away from Chris to watch the road. Chris hesitated, wanting to give her a moment to let it sink in.

"It's true, Jill. I saw him, myself. Up close and personal…too close." He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. There was so much more to tell her, but he didn't want to get into too much detail with Claire present. She had already been through enough and this latest problem was for him and his teammates to deal with, not his little sister. 

"I don't understand. How is that even possible?" Jill stared intensely at the road ahead, as if the answer she needed might suddenly appear on the horizon. "He was so messed up when you left him…" her voice trailed off. 

"I thought he was dead when I left him", Chris offered. "I guess I should have made sure he was." He turned around to look at Claire, who was stretched out in the back seat. Her eyes were closed and it looked as though she was sleeping. He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, the slow rhythm confirming what he had hoped. An old saying from his military days suddenly sprang to mind…

__

A good soldier sleeps whenever he can, wherever he can.

"…doing there?"

The voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to look at Jill. 

"What?"

"I said, what was he doing there?" She glanced over at him, noticing for the first time how utterly exhausted he looked.

"Apparently, he's hooked up with some group that's looking to get their hands on the virus." 

"So he's not working for Umbrella anymore?" she asked.

"I guess not."

"Sounds like he found a bigger cash cow, that miserable bastard."

"I think they offered him a lot more than money, Jill."

Jill turned off the main road, following a series of snow covered roads that eventually led to no roads at all. She pulled the car into a small clearing and parked.

"We're here" she called out, waiting as her passengers began to wake. Chris had finally drifted off to sleep several miles back, leaving Jill to finish the drive in silence. Being alone with her thoughts was not something she enjoyed these days. They all stepped out of the car, Chris grabbing what little baggage they had.

"Where is here, exactly?" Claire questioned. Jill turned to look at her, realizing it was the first time Claire had spoken since they left the train station.

"There's a cabin not too far from here, but we can't take the car. It's just a short walk." Jill tucked her keys into her pocket. "Are you up to it?"

"Of course I'm up to it!" Claire shot back. Chris started toward her, reaching for her arm.

"Claire…" he started. She took a step back.

"Don't…" she said, softly. "I'm fine." She strode toward Jill, quickly putting some distance between her and Chris. "Lead the way." Jill looked at Chris questioningly, but he said nothing.

"Okay, then…Follow me."

Claire kept her eyes on Jill's back as they trudged through the snow. She glanced over her shoulder to look at Chris occasionally, but no one spoke. The air was cold and still, the sound of their boots breaking through the ice-covered snow seeming unnaturally loud. Claire was beginning to wonder how much longer this little nature walk was going to take. She opened her mouth to ask just that, when suddenly, Jill came to a stop.

"Hold on a second"

Chris came up to stand beside his sister as they both watched Jill remove a small gadget from her coat pocket. It reminded Claire of a garage door opener. 

"What are you doing with that?" she questioned.

"Just a little safeguard we've set up. I want them to know we're coming", Jill responded, holding the item up and pointing it at a group of trees nearby. "Okay, let's move on."

"God, how much further is this place?" Claire asked, impatiently. She was rubbing her arms vigorously to keep warm. Jill pointed to a break in the trees just to her left.

"About 40 yards this way" she answered, ignoring the other woman's tone.

"Great, cause I'm freezing my ass off out here."

Jill shot a quick look at Chris, noticing a small grin on his face. She sighed to herself and continued on her way.

As the trio approached a small cabin the front door swung open and two people emerged. The first was a slight young woman with light brown hair, dressed in jeans and a black sweater. Behind her stood an older man with thinning red hair and a grizzled face. His large, muscled frame filled the doorway. They both headed down the stairs, the woman practically hopping, trying to navigate through the deep snow.

"Chris!" She reached her arms out and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Thank God, you're all right."

"Hey, Rebecca" Chris returned the hug. "It's great to see you." They separated, still holding each other at arms length. She took a moment to look him up and down with a critical eye. 

"You look like you haven't slept in weeks."

"That's her subtle way of saying you look like shit, Buddy", a deep baritone voice spoke up from behind Rebecca.

"Barry," Chris reached out his hand shaking the other man's much larger one. "I could say the same about you." Barry smiled, his gaze wandering toward the young woman standing next to Jill.

"Hello, Claire" Barry reached out his hand and they shook. "It's been a long time. I think you're about a foot taller than the last time I saw you."

"Hi, Barry." Claire smiled, warmly. "I think that was about the time Chris went into the service."

"Hey, Claire" Chris interrupted, "This is Rebecca Chambers."

"Hi, Claire. Nice to meet you."

"Same here. Chris has told me a lot about you." The two women shook hands. Everyone stood in silence momentarily, until Jill finally broke it.

"I better go back and move the car. Chris, why don't you fill them in on what's been happening. I'll be back shortly." Jill turned to leave, but Barry reached out and caught her arm.

"Jill, wait." She turned back to look at him, questioningly. "I need to talk to you." His expression was grim. "Rebecca, why don't you bring Claire inside. I'm sure she's tired and would like to get out of the cold." Barry's eyes never left Jill's face as he spoke. The young medic nodded in agreement.

"Good idea. Come on, Claire. I'll show you where you can get some sleep." Chris noticed Rebecca's face was suddenly clouded with worry. She looked at Jill with concern before turning to head back inside.

"Well…" Claire hesitated, certain that something was very wrong. Chris had not been out of her sight in weeks. She was feeling extremely protective of her brother, even with this group of people. 

"It's okay, Claire" Chris assured her, as if reading her thoughts. "Go ahead. I'll be right in." 

"Alright, then." She took the duffel bag from his hand and, reluctantly, followed Rebecca inside.

"Barry, what's wrong?" Jill asked, feeling a knot forming in her stomach. Chris moved to stand beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I found a news story from the AP a short time ago" Barry paused, breathing deeply. His breath came out in a puff of white smoke. "It was about a prisoner that escaped from Leominster County Corrections…"

"That's where my Father is, Barry", Jill interrupted.

"I know, Jill. It was your Father."

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Okay, there's Chapter 2. I'm fairly certain that Dick Valentine was an invention of S.D. Perry, so I've borrowed him for this story. See you next time. 


	3. Family Ties

"You spoke to Leon

"You spoke to Leon?" 

Rebecca handed a glass of water to Claire, who was seated on the sofa.

"Yeah. After we finally heard from Chris that the two of you were okay, I thought we should let him know." Rebecca sat on the other end of the sofa, pulling a pillow onto her lap. She clutched it with both arms, casting a glance at the door.

"How is he? Claire asked, not waiting for an answer. "How's Sherry? Are they all right? Do you know where they are? She was practically tripping over her words; all traces of sleepiness now having disappeared. Rebecca smiled at her excitement.

"They're both fine, although he was half-crazy with worry over you" she added. "He said to tell you that Sherry is safe and misses you terribly--"

"He didn't tell her about what happened to me, did he? Claire interrupted.

"No. He told her you had to keep a low profile while you searched for Chris and that's why you hadn't been in touch" Rebecca assured her.

I didn't even know where they were," Claire said, sadly. "All I had was an e-mail address. Thank God I did, otherwise I would never have reached Leon and Chris wouldn't have had any idea where I was." Rebecca nodded in understanding.

"That's how Jill and Barry found out where Chris went. They found the message he sent on Chris' computer." Rebecca reached over and put a hand on Claire's arm. "Leon told me to tell you that he misses you, too and can't wait to see you."

"Where is he, anyway?" Claire questioned. Rebecca was about to answer when the door suddenly burst open, making them both jump.

"I need to see it, Barry. Something's really wrong, here." Jill entered the cabin, followed by Barry and Chris. She walked swiftly to the table near the corner and opened up the laptop that sat there. She began to type. "Where do I find it?" she asked, her voice tight with anxiety.

"I saved it" Barry responded, reaching over to point at the screen. "Just click here." Claire stood up and headed towards the table.

"What's going on?" she asked. Jill sat and stared at the screen, transfixed by what she saw.

"There was something in the news about Jill's father" Chris answered, moving to stand behind Jill so he could look over her shoulder. They were both silent as they read the article.

__

AP - Illinois

Officials from the Leominster County House of Corrections in Westfield confirmed the escape of a prisoner from the medium security prison on Tuesday afternoon. Richard T. Valentine, currently serving a 25-year sentence for Grand Larceny, was to be transferred to another facility by several uniformed police officers. According to prison officials, he never arrived at his destination. Leominster County Warden, Edward Tyler, immediately notified local and state authorities. Prison officials discovered on Tuesday evening that the documentation for the transfer was, in fact, a forgery. A statewide manhunt is now underway for Valentine, along with the individuals who engineered his escape. A source close to the investigation confirmed that authorities are looking into a possible connection between Valentine's escape and the disappearance of his daughter. Gillian Valentine, a police officer in Raccoon City, Oregon, has been missing since the horrible environmental accident, which decimated that city in August of last year. Westfield police would not comment on this part of the investigation, but are requesting anyone with information to please contact them.

"I don't believe it" Jill said, softly. "I should have known they'd find a way to get to him." Chris rested his hands on her shoulders, squeezing firmly.

"Jill, we don't know--"

"Bullshit!" Jill stood up suddenly, shrugging Chris' hands off as she spun around to face him. "We know exactly who's responsible for this!" Jill shouted, her body shaking with rage. Claire walked over to the table to look at the computer screen. She quickly read the story, eyes widening in surprise. Chris went to Jill and gripped her by the arms.

"I'm sure he's okay," he said, soothingly. He hoped it sounded convincing.

"Umbrella."

Everyone looked at Claire, who was still bent over the laptop. Her dark blue eyes locked on Jill's brown ones, holding her gaze for a moment.

"Excuse me." Jill pulled away from Chris and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

"Goddammit", Barry muttered, "When I first read it I was hoping there was another explanation. Maybe he had a few friends that set it up, something like that. But, in my gut, I knew."

"Why now?" Rebecca interjected. "It's been a long time since she left Raccoon City. They don't even know where she is. It doesn't make any sense."

"They're trying to flush her out." Chris said, simply.

"They know they've got some leverage" Barry confirmed, "…a bargaining chip. That's why our families are in hiding, Rebecca. Your parents, my wife and kids. Poor Jill didn't have any way to protect her father. She just had to hope he'd be safe from them in prison. But, in reality, he was a sitting duck." Rebecca folded her arms across her chest and began to pace. Chris ran a hand through his hair and cast a glance at the bathroom door.

"The question now is, what are we gonna do about it?"

***

Jill splashed some cold water on her face and picked her head up, looking in the mirror. Hearing Claire utter that name had made her stomach lurch. Nothing in her life ever had the power to strike a chord of fear in her as much as that one, single word.

__

'Umbrella'

It was almost primal. A nightmare realized, brought to life in one simple word, and that word meant 'Monster'. That's what it was to her now. A living entity made up of thousands of people willing to offer up the sacrifice of human lives in their quest for power. And now that monster had her father. He was nothing to them, except a means to an end…her end. She would have to do whatever it took to save him. This was her fight, not his, and she was not about to sacrifice his life for her own.

***

"How could they be sure she'd even find out?" Rebecca wondered. "She hasn't contacted Dick in months."

"With good reason", Barry added.

"I guess they figured she'd find out sooner or later", Chris reasoned. "They just had to wait her out." He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "Now, they have her right where they want her." The bathroom door opened and Chris straightened up as Jill emerged. Rebecca eyed her friend with concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Jill managed a weak smile.

"I've been better." Rebecca placed a hand across her forehead, as if trying to detect a fever.

"Sorry", she muttered. "Stupid question." Barry looked at her with sympathy before turning his attention to Jill.

"We'll figure something out", he stated. Jill walked to the table, seating herself at the computer, once again.

"I may already have." She began to point and click her way through several screens. Suddenly, she stopped and leaned back rubbing her face with her hands. Her friends all gathered around, seeing what she had been searching for. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Umbrella's website?" Claire queried. "You think there might be something there?" Jill sat forward, continuing to search the menus, leaving the younger woman's questions unanswered. She looked over the list of categories,

deciding to start at the top. Selecting an option required a click on the Umbrella logo, a symbol they all hated. She tried 'Business Affiliates' first. A list of subsidiaries was displayed.

Click back.

The next option was 'Career Opportunities'. She found nothing there.

Click back.

The third option on the list was ' Sales Promotions'. She clicked on the logo, beginning to think that maybe there was nothing to find. The next page displayed…

…and Jill's heart stopped.

There on the screen, in large red letters, were three words:

'Valentine's Day Promotions'

"Jesus Christ", Chris breathed. Jill willed her shaking hand to respond. Slowly, she moved the cursor and clicked on the icon…a little red heart. There was a phone number, along with a short message: 

'Call for details'

Jill got up and rushed to where her coat lay, draped across the back of a chair. She quickly rifled through the pockets and retrieved her cell phone. Barry intercepted her as she hurried back to the desk.

"Whoa, Jill" he started, holding his palm out in front of her like a traffic cop. "You can't just call them." Jill held the phone up to his face.

"It has a scrambled signal, Barry", she explained. "They won't be able to trace it, you know that." Barry's face showed a look of surprise.

"That's not what I meant", he corrected. "We need to think this out before we make a move."

"I don't need to think about this, Barry. He's my father for God's sake." Her deep brown eyes glistened with unshed tears as her voice lowered to a whisper. "They'll kill him…or worse, and I can't let that happen. I won't."

"Jill, he's right." Chris came around the table to stand next to Barry. "We need to talk about this, first." Jill's cheeks flushed as the anger she was trying to hold back began to bubble up to the surface.

"This coming from you, Chris, of all people!" Jill retorted. "You didn't bother to _talk_ to any of us before you ran off to save your sister, did you?" She pointed her finger at Barry, "And your family is safe and sound, aren't they? Rebecca's family, too, right?" She stepped between Barry and Chris, moving swiftly to the table. "I will do whatever it takes to save my family…just like the rest of you would." With that, she dialed the number, closing her eyes as she tried to swallow a lump in her throat. She wanted her voice to sound steady. After two rings, a voice answered.

"Yes?" A female voice, Jill noted.

"This is Jill Valentine", she announced.

"One moment." Jill heard several clicks, knowing with the utmost certainty that Umbrella was trying to trace the call.

"Hello, Officer Valentine." A male voice now greeted her. He sounded almost pleasant. Jill wanted to strangle him.

"Is he alright?" She new the question was a pointless one, but she had to ask it.

"For now." The threat was loud and clear.

"What do you want?" She opened her eyes to look at Chris. His gaze was intense, no doubt a mirror of her own.

"A simple trade" The voice responded in a reasonable tone. "You, for him."

Jill said a silent prayer to herself. She could do this. She had to.

"Do we have a deal?" The voice asked, calmly. Jill scanned the faces of her friends and teammates. They would have to go along with her decision.

"Yes" she answered, adding "But, I choose the time and place…or no deal."

"Agreed."

"I'll get back to you shortly." She hit a button and ended the call. Chris' face was hard as stone.

"You can't." It was a plea.

"I don't have any choice."

__

Boy, that chapter seemed a bit long to me, mostly dialogue. Anyway, the next chapter should have some action…I know, I know…finally! 


	4. A Few Good Men

Sacrifices ****

Sacrifices

Chapter 4: A Few Good Men

He was waiting. Someone would come to see him soon. They would ask him a few questions, try to engage him in a bit of small talk. But it would always come down to the same subject. They would ask him about his daughter. 

Dick Valentine stood up from the small, metal chair and stretched his arms up over his head. He began to walk around the room. After several years in prison, he knew how to handle cramped spaces. The room he was in now was actually bigger than the cell he had been residing in, but it was still a prison. He scratched at his chin, feeling the rough stubble of several days' worth of growth. At least in prison he was allowed to shave.

The people who brought him here had told him very little. He realized shortly after leaving Leominster County that his 'police escort' was just a ruse. There had been a fleeting moment of exhilaration when he thought Jill might have had something to do with it. He hadn't heard from her in a long time and thought, perhaps, she decided to get him out. But, as quickly as the idea flashed in his mind, he rejected it. He knew she would never do something like that, no matter how desperate her situation may have become. Their last conversation had been a tense one. His daughter was in serious trouble, but had stubbornly refused to divulge much in the way of details.

__

"Where are you going?"

"I can't tell you, Dick. The less you know the safer you'll be."

"Why are these people after you?"

"Because I know things about them…things they don't want anyone else to know."

"And now, they think your dead?"

"Well, I hope so. That's why I have to disappear, before they find out I'm not."

"Jilly…"

"I'll be alright. I just wish I could get you out of here. It won't take long for them to find out about you, if they don't already know."

"I'm in prison, for Christ's sake. What are they gonna do, come and get me?"

"You don't know these people. They're completely ruthless. Just promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise."

"I better go."

"Jill, wait."

"What is it?"

He sat there staring at her through the plexi-glass wall that divided them. There were so many things he wanted to say to her at that moment, but the only thought he could give voice to was…

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad."

That was the last time he had spoken to her. The more time that went by without word from her, the more disheartened he became…until four days ago. When he realized the enormity of the deception these people had pulled off, he knew they were the ones looking for Jill. When they began to question him about her, that gave him hope. If they didn't know where she was, that probably meant she was okay. They lied to him at first, saying they were with a secret government agency, trying to find her in order to offer her protection. Dick knew that was complete bullshit, and he promptly told them so. When it became obvious he wasn't going to buy any story they offered, the truth came out. They wanted to find her and he was going to help them. 

Still, there were some things that still puzzled him. Although they asked him about her, they never actually threatened him in any way. Jill told him these people were dangerous, yet they didn't hurt him in order to find out what they so obviously wanted to know. That just didn't make sense. It seemed like they were only going through the motions, as if already knowing that he had nothing to tell.

He continued to walk around the room, his dark eyes taking in every detail. The room was sparse, consisting of a large cot in one corner, along with a table and chairs. There was a tiny bathroom off to one side, no windows, of course. All the comforts of home, if you had been living in a prison cell for a while. When they first brought him to this room, he had spent most of the day examining every nook and cranny trying to find a way out, to no avail. His hosts had done their homework and took every precaution to make certain he would stay put. 

He knelt down to the floor and started to do some push-ups. As he began working up a sweat, he found his thoughts wandering. A helpless feeling had been gnawing him in the gut since Jill had run off. He knew some of the blame for her situation rested on his shoulders. If he hadn't been stupid enough to get caught in the middle of a heist, Jill would not have been left alone to fend for herself. And he was the one who had pushed her to take the job in Oregon. He told her a career in law enforcement was the perfect solution for her. Who better to chase after criminals than someone who had been a criminal herself? Of course, he never really thought of her that way. The most involved she had ever been in his line of work was as a lookout, occasionally disabling an alarm system or picking a few locks. These were all things he had taught her how to do. Yet another sin Dick Valentine had brought upon his daughter. 

Dick's wife, Elizabeth, died of cancer when Jill was only 13 years old. He had been devastated by the loss, of course, but his daughter was completely destroyed by it. She withdrew from everything, spending most of her time in her room, or walking through the large expanse of woods behind their home. School became a constant source of difficulty for her. She would get into fights with other kids, always under the guise of some imagined slight. Her friends had tried to help, dropping by the house and practically pleading with her to come out and have some fun. After months of rejection, they stopped coming around. Dick did everything he could think of to help her deal with the misery she was in, but nothing seemed able to penetrate the wall she had erected around herself…until, one fateful day.

Dick had to go to Jill's school to pick her up, as she had been suspended for fighting, yet again. It was within walking distance of their house, so he dashed out the door and headed over on foot as soon as the call came in. He arrived to find his daughter waiting for him in the principal's office, a spot on her right cheek already turning to an angry shade of purple. After feeling as if he had been scolded himself, Dick Valentine took his bruised daughter by the hand and headed home. 

When they arrived at the house, he realized he hadn't brought his keys. Cursing loudly, he reached out to Jill, and promptly removed a barrette from her hair. She opened her mouth to protest, staring with wide eyes as he proceeded to mangle it. He turned to the door, getting down on one knee, and inserted the small piece of metal into the lock. Jill watched in silence, her initial anger having vanished in the wake of his odd behavior. Within moments there was an audible click. Dick twisted the knob and threw the door open, stalking into the house and leaving Jill standing on the porch, alone. 

She had questioned him incessantly about this unique talent he possessed, and he was all too happy to stoke the fires of her enthusiasm. She was finally interested in something again, and it was the first connection they had made in a long time. So, he decided to teach his fourteen-year old daughter how to pick locks. It was as simple as that. 

Jill began with doors around the house, using the small tools her father owned. Her first success had taken over forty-five minutes to accomplish, but it was the look of utter triumph on his young daughter's face when they heard the telltale click that was enough to convince him to continue this most peculiar education. 

To Dick's surprise, he discovered Jill had a natural talent for it. Her level of concentration was astounding for someone so young. It wasn't long before she could pick every lock in their home. A desk, doors, even Dick's strongbox was not safe from his daughter's newfound skills. But, eventually, there was nothing more to challenge her, so she decided to seek out some new prospects on her own. 

Three weeks before Jill's fifteenth birthday, she was arrested for stealing a car. 

Dick stopped his push-ups and turned over to lie on his back. His breathing was labored; coming out in short gasps. He used the back of his arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead and got to his feet. He reached into the back pocket of his pants and removed a photograph. The picture was of a pretty young woman with long, blonde hair. She was sitting on a carousel, her arms wrapped around a little girl with auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes. 

The door being unlocked pulled Dick out of his reverie with a start. He quickly placed the picture back into his pocket and spun around to face his captors.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Valentine" the first man greeted, smiling. Dick strolled to a chair and sat down.

"Is it afternoon?" he remarked. "I guess I'll have to take your word for it." Another man entered the room, closing the door behind him. He stood in front of it, clasping his hands together. Dick watched, cautiously, as the first man took a seat across from him. He had never seen this man before.

"My name is Edward. I've been asked to come and talk to you about a few things." He unbuttoned his expensive looking suit coat. 

"Look, if this is about my daughter again I already told you people--" The man held a hand up to cut him off.

"Actually, it is. Although I haven't come here to ask you any questions." Dick eyed the older man with suspicion. "I'm here to give you some instructions."

"Instructions for what?"

"On how you are going to conduct yourself when we take you to see her."

*** 

"Dammit!"

"What's wrong, Leon?" 

"I think we've picked up a tail." Leon Kennedy slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, taking the first turn off the highway. His blue eyes watched the rearview, waiting for the familiar vehicle. "There it is. I knew it!" He took a left off the exit ramp and sped down the road.

"Can you lose them?" his passenger asked, anxiously. Leon looked over at the young blonde girl, giving her one of his patented 'don't worry' smiles.

"No problem, Sherry. Just hold on tight." Sherry Birkin gripped the door handle as the car skidded around a sharp corner. She looked at the outside mirror, spotting the other car that was now chasing them.

"There still behind us!" she shouted, trying to make her voice heard over the roaring engine and squealing tires. Leon continued to weave in and out of traffic, trying to use the busy roadway as cover. He took a quick series of turns, watching with irritation as the other vehicle continued its pursuit.

"Jesus, they don't give up easy", Leon commented. He shot a quick look at his young charge, noting the look of fear on her face. He rushed down a few more roads until, suddenly, he pulled into a parking lot. A shopping mall loomed in the distance. He drove as fast as he dared, pedestrians slowing his progress at every turn. 

"Ah, Leon?" Sherry piped up. "It's Saturday, you know. This place is a zoo." Leon gave her a sidelong glance, and grinned.

"Exactly." He could see Sherry's puzzled expression out of the corner of his eye. He pulled into the first parking space he could find and killed the engine. He threw the car door open and jumped out, reaching across the seat to pull Sherry out with him. They began to walk briskly toward the mall. 

Leon had set the pace and Sherry was practically running to keep up with his long strides. She watched him as his head darted back and forth, searching for something. She assumed he was looking for the car that was chasing them, but he stopped and looked down at her with a smile. 

"I think I found what we're looking for." Sherry narrowed her eyes at him.

"And what is it that we're looking for?" Leon pointed to a car several feet away. Sherry followed his arm until her eyes rested on a large, black sedan. There was a man loading some bags into the trunk. The engine was running.

"So what about it?"

"So, we need some new wheels." Leon squeezed her hand and winked at her. "I think you may need some help finding your big brother, don't you?" Sherry rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh, come on, Leon."

"What? You don't like my plan?"

"It's not that. But, I'm not a little kid, for crying out loud." Leon looked perplexed. 

"Of course you're not. Do you think I'd let you handle things on your own if you were?" Sherry cast another glance toward the man.

"You really think he'll buy that story?" Leon grinned. 

"I'm sure of it." Sherry sighed and started to walk towards the man. She glanced back over her shoulder, watching Leon as he casually strolled between the cars nearby.

"Excuse me?" The man looked over at the young girl. His face was passive, until he noticed she was upset. He had a daughter about the same age.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Sherry did her best to muster up a few crocodile tears. She moved to stand near the bumper, trying to draw his attention away from Leon, who was sneaking around the front towards the driver's side door. 

"I, I'm sorry to bother you. But, I was supposed to meet my brother back at his car, and I can't seem to find it." She paused, sniffling, for dramatic effect. "I've been wandering through the parking lot for a long time and I'm sure he must be worried." She wiped at her eyes. "You must think I'm such a baby." The man regarded her with a look of sympathy.

"No, of course not." He smiled at her. "Maybe I can help you find him." Sherry's face lit up. 

"Really? That would be great!" She turned and pointed back in the direction she and Leon had come from. "I'm almost positive it was this aisle. It's a blue Camry." The man stepped up to stand beside her, holding his hand over his eyes as he scanned the lot. Sherry chanced a peek back toward the man's car to see Leon frantically waving at her. She quietly stepped back, taking care not to be noticed. Suddenly, she turned and bolted for the passenger side of the black car, jumping in as Leon hit the gas. The man turned as Sherry had started to run, not quite comprehending what was going on, until he saw his car pulling away.

"Hey!" He ran towards the retreating bumper as the car sped out of its parking space. "Stop! That's my car, you son of a bitch!" The man gave chase, but Leon found a clear path heading out to the rear exit. Sherry spun around in her seat to look out the rear windshield.

"Poor guy." She looked over at Leon. "He was just trying to be nice and look where it got him." She slumped back down into the seat and folded her arms. Leon reached over and gave her knee a squeeze.

"I know you feel bad, Sherry. But, we had to get out of there. It was the only way." The truth was he was glad she felt guilty. That's how any normal person would feel. And Leon wanted Sherry Birkin to feel like a normal young girl.

***

Leon could hear the phone ringing as he fumbled to put the key into the lock. Sherry fidgeted back and forth, looking over her shoulder at the empty hallway. 

"Hold on, hold on…" He muttered, finally pushing it open. He bolted inside, snatching up the receiver, while tossing his keys onto the coffee table. He held it to his chest, waiting for Sherry to close and lock the door behind them. She dropped herself into a chair as he put his ear to the phone. "Hello?" Sherry watched him as a huge smile appeared on his handsome face.

"Claire! Is that you?" Sherry bolted up from her seat and practically launched herself at him. He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. "God, I can't believe it. Are you okay?" He paused, listening intently, as Sherry strained to hear. 

"Leon, I want to talk to her", she whispered. He winked at her and nodded. 

"Yeah, Rebecca told me." He continued to respond with brief comments as Sherry's gesturing became more animated. 

"Come on", she hissed, impatiently. Leon's expression sobered as the phone call went on. After several minutes of silence, he finally spoke again. 

"Of course. I'll be there as soon as I can." Sherry looked at him with concern. "Hey, I have someone here who's gonna break my arm if I don't give her the phone. Hold on…" he paused, and then added, "and watch yourself 'til I get there." He handed the phone to Sherry. She snatched it from him and almost shouted into the receiver. 

"Hi Claire!" Leon watched Sherry as she proceeded to grill Claire about her whereabouts, general health, and when she would see her again. It looked as if the top of Sherry's head would fall off if her smile got any wider. He hadn't realized, until that moment, how much she really missed Claire. Apparently, every bit as much as Leon did.

He really didn't have a chance to tell Claire too much about what was going on with he and Sherry. But, the timing couldn't have been better. It was obvious they had to get the hell out of Dodge, and Claire had given them a destination. Of course, he hadn't mentioned to her that he was bringing Sherry, but there was no other choice. There was no place to leave her, and he believed she would be safer with Claire. Now that she and her brother had been reunited, perhaps Leon could leave Sherry with them while he took care of some matters of his own. He wasn't certain how all of this business with Jill Valentine's father would go down, but he would be there when the exchange was made. Then, maybe, he could use his own resources to help. 

***

Carlos Oliviera stood perfectly still, cell phone clutched, tightly, in his hand. He pinched his nose with his thumb and index finger, taking a few deep breaths. It had been quite some time since he last spoke to Jill Valentine. When he answered his phone only moments ago, there was a brief feeling of elation at hearing her voice, followed by a feeling of dread as she explained the reason for her call. He agreed to go, without hesitation. They still shared a unique bond. A closeness that went far beyond friendship. They had fought for their lives together, saved each other countless times. There was no one person on this earth he trusted more. 

His experiences in Raccoon City had changed him, profoundly. When he first joined the U.B.C.S. he seemed to be a perfect fit for the mercenary lifestyle. He was an orphan with no attachments, and the constant element of risk appealed to his rather violent nature. Having grown up living on the streets of Miami, he had developed a mean-spirited and arrogant personality. He was a loner, and he liked it that way. The job at Umbrella paid extremely well, and he had tucked most of it away. He planned to work for as long as the thrill lasted, then take his money and disappear. No one to answer to, and no one to worry about. That was his motto. 

Until his squad was sent to Raccoon City, Oregon.

The assignment had been a simple one. There had been some type of chemical accident and the city was in chaos. His platoon, headed by Mikhail Victor, were to land in the city by chopper, evacuate any civilians they could find, and get the hell out. That was it. No problem.

But, of course, it was a lie. Just like everything else Umbrella had told them.

Carlos had entered a nightmare. That was the only way to describe it. Nothing could have prepared him for what was happening in that city. Fortunately, he found a survivor who helped him to escape it. That person was Jill Valentine. If he had never found her there, Carlos knew he would be dead. 

He had never relied on anyone before he met her. But, she had risked her life for him, even though she hardly knew him. And, in the end, he had done the same for her. When they left the city, he followed her for a while. She was searching for her teammates, and Carlos helped her find them. They parted ways shortly after, each to fight their battles in their own way. But, Jill had promised him she would be there for him if he ever needed her. Now, she needed him, and he wouldn't let her down. 

__

Okay, that's it for now. Originally this chapter was much longer. I decided to split it up. Just thought the suspense would last a bit longer this way. I hope you're all enjoying it. Thanks for the nice comments. Now, on to chapter 5! Later. 

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	5. Revelations and Preparations

Sacrifices ****

Sacrifices

Chapter 5: Revelations and Preparations

Claire walked, briskly, through the airport terminal, slowing her pace as she approached the baggage claim area. She scanned the large crowd of people, searching for someone.

"Claire!" A familiar voice called out, causing her to spin around. She recognized Leon Kennedy's smiling face in an instant and raised her hand to wave, until she noticed he wasn't alone.

__

Sherry…

She froze, hand in the air, as the young girl stepped out from behind him. Sherry spotted Claire in the crowd and began to smile. She broke into a run, oblivious of the shocked expression on the brunette's face. Claire's hesitation lasted only a few seconds as she stepped forward, reaching her arms out to embrace her friend. The petite blonde nearly knocked her over as she crouched down to scoop her up into a hug.

"Jeez, kiddo. I think you've grown a foot since the last time I saw you" she greeted, a slight grunt escaping her as she pulled Sherry off her feet. There was no response as Claire set the girl back down to the floor. Sherry still had her arms wrapped tightly around Claire's neck.

"Sherry?" Claire tilted her head back, trying to look at the girl's face. "Are you okay?" She heard a sniffle, feeling Sherry's body hitch as she took in a quick breath. Slowly, Claire came down to rest on her knees, squeezing her small friend even tighter. "I missed you, too, sweetie" she whispered, stroking the girl's hair, as she gently rocked back and forth. 

"Is this a private hug, or can anyone join in?" Claire looked up to find Leon standing over them, smiling broadly.

"This was quite a surprise," she said, softly. A serious look flashed across his face, briefly. 

"I know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but there were no other options." They continued to stare at each other in silence while Sherry's sniffles began to subside. She pulled back a bit to look into Claire's face.

"Sorry." Claire placed her hands on the girl's cheeks, wiping away a few stray tears with her thumbs.

"Don't be. That's the best hello I've had in a long time." She smiled as Sherry wiped at her own face with the back of her hands. "Feel better, now?" 

"Much", Sherry replied, as a smile created dimples in her flushed cheeks. She took a step back and looked up at Leon. "Your turn." Leon grinned, casting a wink at her.

"Thanks. Don't mind if I do." He stepped forward and hugged Claire. "I've missed you", he whispered. His warm breath tickled her ear and she suppressed a shiver. 

"I missed you, too." She pulled back, the close proximity feeling a bit awkward to her. "You look good", she added, knowing how lame it sounded. He held her at arm length, studying her face. His eyes came to rest on the scar above her eye. 

"How did this happen?" He traced it, delicately, with the tip of his finger. Claire flinched and pulled away from him.

"It's nothing." Leon narrowed his eyes.

"It doesn't look like nothing." His tone caused Sherry to look at her friend closely.

"It looks like it must have hurt", she added. "How'd you do it?" Claire looked back and forth between them. She was not ready to discuss the details of her most recent adventure.

"I took a tumble in a Snowcat. No big deal. Now, we better get going. Rebecca's waiting for us outside." It was obvious to Leon that the subject was closed, so he decided to let it drop, for now.

"I'll just grab the bags and we can head out of here."

As the trio exited the building, Claire pointed to a white van parked at the curb. "That's Rebecca, over there." They approached the vehicle just as a young brunette emerged from the driver's side door. Although her hair color was much lighter, she reminded Leon a little of Claire.

"Hey, there you are", she greeted, smiling. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost, or something." Claire looked apologetic.

"Sorry, we had to find their luggage." Rebecca came around the front of the van, extending her hand. "Well, you must be Leon." She shook his hand, squeezing firmly. "I'm Rebecca Chambers. It's nice to finally meet you. Claire's told me a lot about you." Leon cast a glance at Claire, a smile tugging at his lips. 

"Really? Well, I hope that doesn't scare you off." Rebecca laughed. 

"I don't scare easily", she responded, turning to look at their younger companion. "And, you must be Sherry." She offered her hand, and Sherry stepped toward her, shaking it enthusiastically. "I didn't realize you were coming, too." She shot a quick look at Claire, who could only shrug her shoulders.

"I know, but Leon said there was no other place that would be safe for me. And, I wanted to see Claire." She took a step closer to Claire, who reached an arm out and put it around her shoulders.

"Well, Leon was right. You're safe with us, Sherry." Claire gave the shorter girl a squeeze. Sherry looked up at the woman who had saved her life all those months ago, feeling a sense of security that no one else had ever given her before, not even Leon. She knew Claire would give her own life to protect her. She looked back at Rebecca, who smiled at her and pulled the passenger door open.

"Care to ride shotgun?" she asked, with a wave of her hand. 

"Sure." Sherry climbed into the van, propping herself up in the seat. Rebecca closed the door and looked at Leon and Claire.

"Looks like you two ride in the back." She pulled the side panel door open. Claire climbed in and started to buckle herself in. Leon hesitated, turning to look at Rebecca.

"Thank you for calling me and letting me know she was okay", he said, softly. 

"Your welcome. But, we're the ones who should say thanks. If it weren't for you, Chris would never have found her. He's very grateful…we all are." She patted him on the back. "Now, why don't you hop in and we'll get this show on the road." Leon saluted her.

"Yes, Ma'am." He climbed in and took a seat next to Claire. She glanced over at him.

"So, why don't you tell me what you've been up to." Leon reached over and put his hand on her forearm.

"That can wait. Why don't you tell me the plan you've come up with to save Jill Valentine's father." Claire turned away from him to look out the window. She let out a heavy sigh.

"It's a shitty plan, Leon."

***

Carlos emerged, bleary eyed, from the small plane. He waved to the pilot and trotted across the airfield, a worn backpack thrown over his shoulder. The hanger was relatively quiet, as he made his way inside. He glanced about at the small group of people milling around, until his eyes rested on one man. He looked around briefly, watching, as the man jerked his head in the direction of a red jeep parked near the door. Carlos acknowledged his gesture and made his way toward the awaiting vehicle. Both men reached it at the same time, and Carlos climbed into the passenger seat. The driver started the engine and pulled out of the parking area, rapidly putting distance between them and the airstrip. Carlos allowed himself a moment to relax and looked over at his companion.

"It's been awhile, Barry. How are you?" Barry glanced over at his young passenger.

"I've been better." Carlos frowned, turning to look ahead at the road.

"So there's no way to talk her out of this." It was not a question. Barry sighed, absently running his hand across the stubble on his chin.

"We've tried to come up with some other alternative, Carlos, but there isn't one. If she doesn't show up, they'll kill him." Barry clenched the wheel, tightly, his knuckles turning white. "It's gonna kill me to just sit by and watch this happen."

"Then don't." Barry looked at him, briefly, and turned his eyes back to the road. Carlos continued. "Maybe, if we take them by surprise, catch them off guard or something--"

"That won't work", Barry interrupted. 

"Why?" Carlos persisted. "The deal is that they'll only bring a dozen or so people. They think we're outnumbered. If we position ourselves in the right place, we can pick 'em off in no time." Barry shook his head.

"First of all, we are outnumbered. Second of all, no matter how good a shot any of us are, we'd never be able to take them all out in time. They're not gonna be stupid enough to put all of their people out in the open, and all it's gonna take is one well placed bullet to put down their hostage."

"But, if we--" 

"Carlos, this is exactly the kind of stuff the Tactics and Rescue Squad was trained for. We look over every possible angle, take everything into account. Chris, Jill, Rebecca and I went over this for hours. Each scenario ended the same way…losing the hostage. And Jill is not about to let that happen." 

"So we're just gonna let them have her?" Carlos shouted, slamming his fist on the dashboard in frustration. "That's your plan?" Barry turned the wheel, pulling off the road as he brought the jeep to a sudden stop. He turned to face the former mercenary, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Let me tell you something", he growled. "I've known Jill a hell of a lot longer than you, and I understand a little of what she's going through. When the people you love are in danger, you'll do anything to save them. You'll sacrifice your own life…or someone else's." He paused, rubbing a hand, vigorously, across his forehead. "Jill knows the risks, and she is going to do this with, or without our help. At first, she didn't want any of us involved. But, I owe her. She put her trust in me at a time when it was the last thing on this earth that I deserved. And I, for one, am not about to let her sacrifice be in vain. She wants to see her father safe, and I plan on doing everything in my power to make sure that he is. We have all struggled with this, Carlos, more than you'll ever know, and we've agreed to do as she asks. Now, the question is, are you in or are you out?"

A look of uncertainty flashed across Carlos' face. He turned away from Barry's unflinching gaze, looking down at his red knuckles. He began to rub his other hand across them, absently. In truth, he didn't want any part of it. He and Jill fought so hard to stay alive, beating impossible odds, and vowed to each other that Umbrella would never win. He realized, now, how naïve they had been. And how fortunate he was to have survived this long. The reality of Jill's predicament was suddenly clear to him, and it strengthened his resolve.

"I'm in."

***

Chris stood atop a large rock, a few feet from the cliff edge, looking through a pair of binoculars. He was looking down on a heavily wooded area with a series of small cliffs overlooking a deep gorge. He adjusted his focus to concentrate on a clearing about 150 yards below him. 

There was a dirt road leading away from it, winding down to the lower valley. He switched his view, searching the other side of the gorge. There was another clearing, similar to the one below him, with it's own access road. The only thing connecting both sides was a narrow bridge. It appeared to be a little less than two hundred feet, by Chris' estimation, and was only wide enough to accommodate one vehicle at a time.

This was the place. In just a few hours, Jill would walk across that bridge and straight into the hands of the enemy. 

After she made the first call to Umbrella, there had been some intense discussion about the merits of her plan, which was only just beginning to form. She wanted to go alone, but her friends convinced her that was a suicide mission, and it certainly wouldn't save her father. Reluctantly, she agreed to let them help, so long as they understood that she was going to follow through with the exchange. 

The first order of business was in selecting a location for the meeting. After much deliberation about what would be the safest surroundings, they decided that the ideal spot would be open, but isolated, and allow them safe and easy access.

Claire, who had been silent during most of the discussion, finally offered up an idea for the place they needed.

Franklin's Notch.

It was a large area of forest located in upstate New York, and had been a favorite camping spot for the Redfield family when Chris and Claire were young. The bridge over the gorge had stuck in Claire's mind because of a photo she had of her and Chris standing on it. It was the last vacation they took together before the accident that claimed the lives of their parents.

Chris heard footsteps approaching from behind him. He turned to see Jill coming up the wooded path.

"Everything looks clear down below", she announced, climbing up the rock face to stand beside him. 

"I haven't seen any signs of activity from up here, either, not even campers." She looked over at him.

"Well, it is still pretty cold, even if most of the snow is gone." Chris chuckled.

"And here I was thinking it was so warm." 

"After being in the Antarctic, I'm sure everywhere else seems warm." He shook his head, as if trying to dispel the memory.

"God, I hated that place." Jill ran a hand through her auburn hair.

"We should get going. There are still some other things we need to do." She pivoted, jumping off the rock, and landed, softly, in the dirt. After taking a few steps toward the path, she noticed Chris was not following. She looked back at him, only to find him staring at her. They stood there in silence, until Chris finally spoke. His voice was so soft Jill had to strain to hear him over the faint sound of the rushing river below.

"I don't know if I can do this." Jill sighed to herself, as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. She kicked at a rock and watched as it bounced away.

"We've already been over this." Chris jumped down off the rock and walked over to her.

"How can you expect me to stand by and watch this happen?" 

"Because my father's life depends on it." She started to turn away as Chris grabbed her by the arm. He spun her around to face him.

"And what about _your_ life, Jill?" She could see the fear and sadness in his eyes and it made her want to run away. She was already scared to death about what lay ahead, and a lot of people were putting their lives on the line for her. She had been so obsessed with saving her father, that she was having trouble thinking objectively. She could end up getting them all killed, and that realization was beginning to hit home. She needed Chris to be strong, so her own weakness would not overwhelm her.

"Don't you think I've thought about that?" she yelled, shaking her arm loose. "Don't you think I know what's going to happen to me?" She dropped to her knees, her hands clenched into fists. Chris knelt down in front of her and took her hands into his, gently coaxing her fingers open. He pressed her palms against his cheeks. Jill lifted her head to look at him, her eyes shimmering with tears.

"I won't give up on you." His voice was hoarse, betraying his emotion. Jill straightened up and pulled his face toward her own, softly pressing her lips against his. Chris closed his eyes and allowed himself the luxury of tasting her lips for the first time. He slowly reached his arms around her back, pulling her body to his. Jill's hands drifted away from his cheeks as her fingers ran soft trails through his thick, dark hair. His tongue brushed against her tender mouth and she parted her lips. The kiss deepened as their tongues gently explored each other's mouths. The kiss lingered on, until Jill finally broke it. They looked at each other for a moment, breathing heavily. 

Jill got to her feet and ran a hand through her hair. She held a hand out to Chris, who grasped it and stood up. Slowly, they walked back down the path, hand in hand. Chris made a silent vow to never let go.

***

The group had decided to camp out in the woods the night before, knowing Umbrella would probably check every hotel and motel in the area looking for them. When Jill and Chris made their way back, they discovered the campsite had been broken down and packed away. They also discovered everyone else had already arrived.

All of the introductions were made, including a brief explanation from Leon regarding Sherry's presence. The young girl sat quietly, feeling a bit out of place with this new group of strangers. Especially, considering the events that were about to take place. She wanted to help, of course, but thought it might be better if she just kept out of everyone's way. She was content to just sit with Claire and observe. Jill and Carlos drifted away from the group to speak privately, while Chris sought out Leon.

"I never got a chance to say thanks for what you did." Chris extended his hand to the younger man. Leon shook it, firmly.

"There's no need to thank me. I'm just glad you found her."

"I wouldn't have if it wasn't for you, and I'm grateful. She's the only family I have."

Leon shifted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his head.

"All I did was send an email. You're the one who rescued her." Chris' mouth formed a lopsided grin.

"She said you'd say something like that. You two got to know each other pretty well in Raccoon, didn't you?" Leon glanced over at Claire, who was watching the two men. He smiled at her. She smiled back and turned her attention to Sherry.

"Not really. I mean, we went through a lot. We were there for each other when it counted, but we weren't together very much." Chris shot a look over his shoulder, only to see his sister quickly look away. 

"Well, it was good of you to come. We certainly need all the help we can get. This is going to be a very risky situation for everyone…" His eyes wandered over to Jill and Carlos, who were engaged in an intense discussion. "I think I'll go give Barry a hand checking the equipment." Chris made his way over to the van, while Leon made his way over to Claire.

***

Everyone stood around waiting, while Barry finished checking the transmitters they had put in Jill's clothing. Although, it was likely that Umbrella would check for such devices, they hoped that at least one would escape detection. Barry stood next to Jill as she fixed the collar of her shirt. The tracker he was holding began to beep, softly. 

"Why is it doing that?" Jill asked, bending down to lace up her boots.

"Because your so close to the tracker. It makes that beeping sound if it gets within ten feet of one of the transmitters" Barry explained. She stood up and grabbed her black leather jacket from the van. 

"Well, just make sure you leave it off while we're standing together." Barry smiled at her.

"Don't worry. Chris is gonna carry it." 

When they were finished, the two friends made their way back to the group. Everyone was quiet, as all eyes rested on Jill. She shifted about, nervously, trying to think of something to say. She pulled on her jacket and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Her nerves were jangling, but she didn't want to show it. Looking at their tense expressions, she suddenly felt like the coach of a football team, about to give a pep talk before the big game.

"I don't really know what to say to all of you', she started, "except…I couldn't have done this alone." Her gaze moved from person to person as she spoke. "I'm not sure what might happen today, but, I know my father will be safe with you." Her eyes rested on Barry. He nodded to her. She continued on. "This has been just as hard on all of you as it's been on me. And I realize the worst is yet to come." She looked at Rebecca. "But, I need you all to be strong, no matter what happens to…today." Carlos folded his arms across his chest and looked at the ground. "I wish there was more time. I hardly know some of you. And you're all taking an incredible risk for me…and for my father. I will always be grateful to you." She met Chris' gaze. "I don't want to say goodbye, so why don't we just get going." With that, Jill Valentine turned on her heel and walked away, ready to meet her fate. 

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Sorry it took so long to post this chapter, but I was feeling a bit under the weather. Anyway, the next chapter should be up pretty quick. Thanks for reading! 


	6. Trading Places

Sacrifices ****

Sacrifices

Chapter 6: Trading Places

The van came up the hill, coming to a stop near the entrance to the bridge. Barry, Rebecca and Jill got out and stood by the back doors. They each looked around, carefully examining the area for any signs of an ambush. Barry had left the engine running, just in case. After several minutes, they seemed somewhat satisfied, but did not let their guard down. They knew better than to take things at face value. They also derived a small amount of comfort from knowing that Chris, Carlos and Leon were somewhere up above them, hidden in the trees, watching their every move. 

Chris had wanted to stay by Jill's side. He had argued the point for some time, but finally relented, knowing that his expert skills as a marksman would be of better use. The cliffs above the bridge offered a perfect view of the happenings below, but it was still a good distance away. Both Chris and Carlos were well skilled with high-powered rifles, while Leon, who was no expert, could hold his own.

Claire and Sherry had stayed with the jeep after dropping the three men off to take their positions. Claire, of course, hated being away from the action, but she had no intention of putting Sherry in harm's way. She also did not want the girl to witness what could end up becoming a very gruesome scene. They waited in a clearing behind the cliffs, a relatively safe distance away, just in case they were needed.

It was up to Barry and Rebecca to handle Jill's father. There was some concern that he might be injured, so the young medic was needed to stand by, just in case. There was also the more likely possibility that Dick Valentine would not be happy about his daughter's decision to give herself over to his captors. Barry was there to keep him from doing something foolish that might get them all killed. 

The three friends stood together, watching intently, as several vehicles crested the hill on the other side of the bridge. There were two black SUV's, followed by a blue van. All of them came to a stop, the van pulling in between the other cars, about fifteen yards from the bridge entrance. 

Jill immediately stepped forward, but Barry put a restraining hand on her arm.

"Wait." She looked at him and nodded, taking a deep breath. Her gaze strayed back to the clearing across the river, focusing on the blue van. She felt Rebecca slip a hand into hers and squeeze it tightly. Jill reciprocated with a vise-like grip of her own. 

The van doors opened and people began to emerge. Jill counted five men and one woman. Two of the men wore dark business suits, while the others, including the woman, were dressed in standard Umbrella uniforms. Her father was not among them. There was no activity from the other vehicles. Jill could only guess at how many soldiers might be hidden inside. 

Time seemed to move at a snail's pace as the former police officers stood and waited. Finally, another figure emerged from the van. He was wearing a blindfold.

Jill held her breath, as the man was lead towards the bridge surrounded by armed guards. Unable to wait any longer, she took a few steps forward to get a better look. The guards observed her movements and drew their weapons. The two guards in the lead parted, pulling the man forward to stand between them. They both pointed their weapons at him.

Jill hesitated, and then began to make her way toward the bridge. She was aware of Barry and Rebecca walking along side of her, but her mind was focused on the man in the blindfold. 

As she stepped onto the bridge, one of the guards reached over and removed the blindfold off the man's head. She saw his face clearly as he blinked from the sudden brightness.

It was Dick Valentine.

Jill's heart nearly burst with relief seeing, with her own eyes, that he was alive and well. Her body started to tremble from the sudden release of emotion and adrenaline. She was so overwhelmed, in fact, that she didn't hear Barry speaking to her. A hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality.

"Jill?" She turned to him, eyes bright with tears.

"It's him, Barry. Thank God…it's him." Barry wiped a tear from her cheek. His face wore a sad expression.

"You still want to go through with this?" He already knew the answer. She looked over at her father.

"Yes." She fought to keep her breathing under control. "I'm ready." Barry gripped her by the shoulders.

"We'll get you out of this, somehow. I promise." She pressed a hand to his cheek.

"Take care of my dad." Barry nodded. Jill turned around to face Rebecca, who had tears running down her own face. She wrapped her arms around the younger woman, hugging her, tightly. "I need you to keep it together, Becca", she whispered. She could feel her friend's head nodding against her cheek. 

Jill let go of Rebecca and started walking across the bridge.

***

Dick Valentine wiped the moisture from his eyes as they finally adjusted to the sunlight. He caught sight of his daughter, almost instantly. The guard on his right gave him a shove. 

"Get moving. And don't do anything stupid." Dick stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. He glared, angrily, at the guard, who proceeded to level his gun at him. "Move."

Dick began to walk across the bridge; his only concern was reaching Jill. It was unnerving, knowing there were guns pointing at his back, and his anxiety grew as he quickened his pace.

***

She was nearly halfway across the bridge when she heard her father call to her.

"Jill!" She slowed down, wanting him to meet her in the middle. He walked even faster toward her, closing the distance between them, and threw his arms around her. She clung to him, feeling very small, as his larger frame enveloped her. "I can't believe you're here." He kissed the top of her head. "Are you alright?" She pulled back to look at him.

"I'm fine. Are you okay?" He smiled at her.

"I am now." Jill smiled back at him and then cast a quick glance over his shoulder. Her body went rigid as the smile faded from her lips. Dick could see the immediate change in her demeanor. "What's going on here, Jilly. Those assholes wouldn't tell me anything…except that you'd fill me in when I saw you. So, let's hear it." Jill held his hands, giving them a firm squeeze. 

"I want you to go with my friends", she said, jerking her head towards Barry and Rebecca. "They'll give you all the details after you leave." Dick narrowed his eyes at her.

"Wait a minute, what about you? Where are you going?" She cast another glance toward the awaiting guards.

"With them." Dick's eyes went wide as his hands gripped hers tighter. 

"No way."

"Dick, please listen to--"

"No! There's no way I'm letting you do this. You are not going to trade yourself for me. For Christ's sake, Jill, I was just gonna rot in prison for another ten or fifteen years, anyway. My life is not worth this much." 

"Don't say that!" she yelled. "It's worth everything to me." Dick's expression softened. He gripped her, gently, but firmly, by the upper arms. He looked down at her, staring into her dark eyes, so much like his own.

"I promised your mother that I would take care of you."

"And you did."

"Like hell I did. These people want to hurt you. I won't stand by and let that happen." He released her and turned back toward his captors. Two of the guards stepped forward and raised their weapons. Jill grabbed him by the arm. Time was running out and she had to make him understand. 

"If I don't go, they'll kill us all. Right here, right now." Dick stood looking between his daughter and the guards, his expression one of utter despair. "We have a plan, so just trust me, and go with my friends. They'll take care of everything." Dick eyed her with suspicion. 

"What plan?" Jill shook her head.

"There's no time. They'll explain it all to you." She walked over to him and gave him another hug. He gripped her, fiercely. "I have to go." They separated, slowly. Dick was in agony, unable to bear the thought of them taking his daughter away. He reached a hand up, brushing a few errant hairs away from her forehead. 

"I love you", he whispered, kissing her above the eyebrow. 

"I love you, too, Dad." Jill let go of him and took a few steps back. She smiled and turned away, heading toward the direction he came from. Dick watched her retreating back, slowly taking a few steps in the other direction. He saw her glancing back at him, checking his progress, as she continued on. He felt numb as he made his way across the bridge. 

***

Chris was lying on his stomach with the scope of his rifle trained on the head of an Umbrella soldier. He kept one hand on the trigger, and the other on a pair of binoculars to watch the scene unfolding far below him.

He could see the emotional exchange taking place between Jill and her father, and wished, for about the thousandth time, that he could be down there. 

He observed Jill and Dick heading in opposite directions, noticing how they each stopped every so often to look back at one another. Chris breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw Barry step forward, trying to lead Dick to the van.

He focused his attention back on Jill, as she reached the other end of the bridge. Two guards stepped forward, appearing to give her some kind of instructions. She turned her back to them and put her hands on her head. One of the guards stood behind her and began to pat her down, while the other stayed to her left, holding his gun level to her head. Chris wanted nothing more than to blow the guys head into a million pieces.

***

Dick stood with Barry and Rebecca, watching, unwilling to leave his daughter without a friendly face to focus on. On at least two occasions, Barry had to physically restrain Dick from going after her. They both tried to explain that they were not giving up on Jill, but eventually everyone lapsed into silence, fearful of what was about to happen.

***

Jill continued staring straight ahead as the guard finished his search. She could see Dick and her friends watching with concern. She wanted them to leave. There was still the chance that Umbrella would gun them all down, regardless of the risk. And there was also a good chance that they would put a bullet in her head right there in front of everyone. She did not want them to stand there and watch her die. 

The guard reached up and pulled Jill's arm down, twisting it, roughly, behind her back. She felt the handcuff as it was slapped onto her wrist. He proceeded to grab her other arm, firmly locking her wrists together at the small of her back. He finished by placing a blindfold across her eyes. She stumbled a bit, disoriented by the sudden darkness. 

"Good afternoon, Officer Valentine." Jill recognized the voice immediately. "I'm pleased we have a chance to finally meet in person. Of course, the introductions will have to wait until we are in a more…private location. For now, let me just say, welcome to Umbrella." Jill felt something touch her neck. The guards caught her by the arms as her body fell forward. The last thing she heard before slipping into unconsciousness was her father screaming her name.

***

Chris jumped to his feet and started to run. He raced through the dense woods, oblivious to the branches that scratched at his face and arms. His mind was awhirl with images as he tried to piece together what he had witnessed. As he watched from his vantage point, he was afraid they were going to kill Jill right on the spot. But, when the man in the suit had used some kind of taser gun on her, Chris was almost elated. That meant they wanted her alive, at least, for now. And that had given him hope.

His breath came out in ragged gasps as he reached the bottom of the hill. He spotted the jeep and ran to it. Claire was in the driver's seat, with Sherry sitting next to her.

"Claire, start the engine!" he hollered, jumping into the backseat. Claire's eyes went wide.

"What about Leon and Carlos?" she asked, watching her brother fumbling with the tracker.

"Forget them, just go!" Claire started the jeep and slammed her foot on the gas. The engine roared as the vehicle tore across the clearing.

"What happened?" she yelled back, raising her voice loud enough to be heard over the straining engine. Chris was muttering to himself.

"Come on…come on…" Sherry looked back at him, and then at Claire.

"He's trying to locate the signal, er…signals", she offered. Claire watched him in the rearview mirror. His face was flushed from his flight through the woods and his features were tight with tension. She looked at her young companion. 

"Call Rebecca's cell phone and let her know the route we follow, okay, sweetie?" Sherry was glad for something to do. She snatched the phone out of the glove compartment and hit the '4', remembering that Claire had programmed it. 

"Chris!" He picked his head up, catching Claire's eye in the mirror. "What happened?" He put his head back down to study the small screen.

"They knocked her out and took her away" he answered. "Yes, I've got it!" He looked up at the road. "Take the next left and head for the highway." Claire did as he instructed.

"What about her father?" she pressed.

"He's okay, although Barry and Rebecca had to practically tie him down to keep him from running after her." Chris cursed and looked up at the road again.

"Speaking of which--"

"Take the next exit", he interrupted. "They must have decided to head for the city." Claire took the ramp.

"Left or right?"

"Right." She turned quickly as the tires protested.

"So, what are we gonna do when we catch up to them?" 

"I haven't thought that far ahead, yet. I just want to stay within range." 

"Rebecca wants to know what route we're on", Sherry piped up. 

"Twenty-four", Claire answered. Sherry relayed the information, straining to here the response.

"She says they're only a couple of minutes behind us", Sherry relayed. 

"The signals stopped moving", Chris announced.

"How close are we?" Claire asked.

"Only a few blocks away." Claire slowed her speed. 

"This is a pretty desolate stretch. Where would they be stopping around here?"

"The signals are close. There must be something nearby. A campground? Or a small airport, maybe?"

"I see a sign!" Sherry exclaimed. Chris looked up from the tracker.

"A gas station…that's got to be it. Claire, pull over here." She parked the jeep on the side of the road. Their view of the station was obscured by a copse of trees. Chris jumped out, tucking an extra handgun in his belt. "Wait here."

"Whoa, brother." Claire hopped out after him. You're not going alone. Rebecca said they're right behind us. Let's wait for the others." Chris didn't look at Claire.

"There's no time. I'm going." He ran down the road and disappeared into the trees. 

"Chris!" Claire shouted after him. "Goddammit!" She reached under the seat and pulled out a gun, tucking it into the waistband of her jeans. She reached a hand out to Sherry. "Come on. I don't want to leave you here alone." The young girl climbed out and followed closely behind as they made their way to the station. 

***

Chris scanned the area, looking for the vehicles. The place was almost empty. He stepped out from behind a tree and made his way across the parking lot. He spotted a tractor-trailer in the back, using the diesel pumps, but there was no other activity. He looked down at the tracker in his hand as he walked toward the front of the station. The signals were very close, according to the device he held, but there was no sign of anyone.

As he neared the garage doors, he heard a faint beeping sound. He noticed a large trash barrel standing between the doors. He approached it slowly, hearing the sound growing louder.

His heart sank as he peered over the rim.

"Chris." He heard Claire come up behind him, but he couldn't speak. She put a hand on his shoulder. "What is it?"

Chris reached his hands into the barrel and pulled out several items, holding them up for Claire to see.

Jill's shirt, boots and jacket.

__

Well, there we go! I managed to get this chapter up PDQ. The next chapter should be out soon. Watch for Leon to take center stage as he tries to get a line on Jill. Frankly, I can't wait to see what happens next. Thanks for reading. Later. 


	7. Spinning Wheels

Sacrifices ****

Sacrifices

Chapter 7: Spinning Wheels

Rebecca placed the phone in its cradle and lay back on the bed, putting her forearm over her eyes. She had just finished checking in with her parents, always feeling an enormous amount of relief whenever she spoke to them. The young woman understood how hard it was on them, being cooped up in a strange and unfamiliar place, but it was the only way to ensure their safety. 

It had been less than forty-eight hours since Jill's disappearance, but to Rebecca, it felt like a year. Her heart ached with worry as her mind conjured up horrific images of what might be happening to her friend. They had all pinned their hopes on the transmitters, but those hopes were soon dashed when the devices had been discovered. Everyone was doing their part to try and locate Jill, but so far they had come up with nothing. Umbrella had been very careful to cover their tracks. 

When Rebecca and the others had arrived at the gas station shortly after receiving Sherry's call, it was immediately apparent that their plan had gone terribly wrong. Chris was in a rage, kicking and throwing a trash barrel across the pavement, while Claire stood nearby, talking to someone Rebecca didn't recognize. She jumped from the van before Barry had even managed to bring it to a complete stop and ran toward the station. It wasn't until after she rounded the gas pumps that she spotted Jill's clothing lying on the ground.

Things quickly went from bad to worse as everyone gathered around, staring at the discarded items in disbelief. Dick reached down and gathered up his daughter's clothes, clutching them tightly to his chest. His eyes smoldered with anger as he whirled on Barry and began to shout at him. Leon stepped between them, advising Dick to calm down, as well as quietly reminding him that he was still a fugitive and was now attracting unwanted attention from the attendant standing next to Claire.

Rebecca stood in silence, watching the scene unfold around her, when Sherry suddenly appeared by her side. The young girl looked up at her and reached a hand out to give her arm a firm squeeze. She placed her hand on Sherry's, quietly acknowledging the show of concern. 

Claire had apparently finished giving her excuses to the attendant, who went back inside, and walked over to Rebecca. She suggested that everyone should head to the destination previously agreed upon, then they could discuss their plans privately. 

Leon convinced Sherry to go with him in the van, leaving Claire free to deal with Chris, who was standing alone on the other side of the parking lot. His tirade was over, but his pacing indicated that he was far from calm. Claire gave Leon a look of gratitude, before heading over to talk with her brother.

As everyone walked back to the van, Rebecca noticed for the first time that Carlos had not joined the group, but instead, chose to stay beside the van, in case of trouble, she assumed. When their eyes met, she could see that he already knew what had happened. As she opened her mouth to speak, he looked away and climbed into the driver's seat, slamming the door with tremendous force. She got into the van without saying a word.

A soft knocking at the door brought Rebecca out of her reverie, and she stood up to answer it. She grabbed her pistol and took a moment to steady her nerves. A quick look through the peephole confirmed there was no danger. She unlocked the door and pulled it open. 

"Can I speak with you for a moment?" 

Rebecca tucked the gun into the back of her jeans and motioned for him to enter.

"Sure, Mister Valentine, come on in." Dick's weary eyes regarded the young woman.

"Please, just call me Dick, okay? Being called 'Mister' makes me feel old." Rebecca flashed him a brief smile.

"Sure, sorry." She pulled a chair over for him and sat on the edge of the bed. Her medical training kicked in as she looked at him with a critical eye. It was obvious he had not had much sleep. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay. Well, I haven't had much sleep, but other than that, I'm fine", he amended, noticing the brunette's expression. She reached out and patted him on the knee.

"You have to take care of yourself. That's what Jill…" The words died on her lips.

"That's what Jill would want me to do", he finished. Rebecca rested her head in her hand, fighting to bring her emotions under control. He stood up and started to pace around the room. "You're right, it is. After all, isn't that what started this whole thing? My daughter worrying about my well being? I just came here to apologize. I've been blaming all of you for losing her, when the fact is, this whole mess is my fault." Rebecca looked at him, sharply.

"That's not true. This is Umbrella's doing, not yours." Dick ran a hand through his hair and Rebecca was struck by the familiar gesture.

"If I hadn't agreed to go--"

"Then you and Jill would both be dead", she interrupted. "Probably the rest of us, as well. Look, Dick, Umbrella used you to get to Jill. She made the choice to go with them. I'm sure, if the situation were reversed, you would have done the same thing. So, let's lay the blame where it belongs, at Umbrella's doorstep." Dick walked back to the chair and slumped down.

"You're making it difficult for me to feel sorry for myself." Rebecca smiled.

"I think we've all been doing too much of that, don't you?" She stood up and held her hand out to him. "Come on. Let's go see if anyone's come up with a lead." Dick looked up at her, trying to return the smile, with little success.

"I'm sure they would have told us." Rebecca shrugged, still holding her hand out to him.

"It sure beats sitting around here, waiting." This time Dick managed to smile. He reached out and took her hand, pulling himself to his feet.

***

Chris threw his cell phone onto the bed. Another dead-end. He had exhausted every resource he had, called in every favor owed to him, and still he had found out nothing. Before he headed off to find Claire, he could occasionally get information about Umbrella's activities from various leaks in their company. Now, Umbrella was shut down tight. 

For the first time in his life, Chris was unsure of what to do. He had faced many difficult situations before, and always managed to find a solution, or take some course of action. Now, it seemed like his hands were tied. After trying everything he could think of there were still no leads on Jill's whereabouts. He also knew that the more time went by, the less likely they were to ever find her.

He couldn't stand looking at the four walls of his hotel room another minute, so he snatched his phone off the bed and headed out the door. On his way down the corridor, he spotted Carlos waiting for the elevator. The first thing that caught his eye was the backpack slung over the mercenary's shoulder.

"Going somewhere?" Carlos turned to Chris with a look of surprise.

"Ah…yeah, actually. I'm taking off." Chris was stunned.

"Taking off? What the hell are you talking about?" The elevator doors opened and Carlos stepped in, with Chris right behind him.

"Look, Redfield. I can't just sit around here and do nothing. I still know a few people in Umbrella and I'm gonna go see them. Maybe I'll be able to find out something." Chris eyed him with suspicion.

"I thought you were done with them. Why can't you just call them from here?" Carlos sighed.

"These people don't have offices, man, or carry cell phones. If I want information, I have to go find them. Talk to them, face to face." 

"Who knows how long that could take? We're running out of time." 

"Don't you think I know that? But, there's nothing I can do here. Unless, you've come up with a solution?" The question hung there between them for a moment. Chris remained silent as the doors opened. "Well?" 

Chris just shook his head. Carlos stepped out into the hallway.

"I didn't think so."

***

"I'll be arriving back in LA tonight."

"Understood. Then we can meet as soon as you get here."

"Fine."

"I must tell you, Leon, I'm not very fond of being kept in the dark. This woman you're asking about is obviously very important to our friends at Umbrella. The security has been almost impenetrable."

"I know. I'll explain it all when I get there. Just keep looking and let me know the minute you find out where they're keeping her."

"Very well. Goodbye, Leon."

Leon ended the call and stuffed his cell phone into his pocket, taking a quick look around to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He snatched his suitcase off the bed and stated toward the door. 

When he arrived in the lobby, he stopped at the front desk.

"Could you please make sure that Miss Ames in room 526 gets this?" The clerk took the small envelope from Leon's hand and swiftly tucked away the twenty-dollar bill that was beneath it. 

"Certainly, sir. Will there be anything else?" Leon's expression was grim. 

"Do you believe in God?" The clerk looked taken aback.

"I suppose I do." Leon smiled, sadly.

"Good. Say a prayer for me, because I could use all the help I can get." He turned and walked through the lobby, disappearing through the front doors.

***

"So, Kennedy is on his way back?" The man leaned across the table as he spoke, presenting a towering figure over the person seated across from him.

"Yes, sir." 

"Any idea where he's been?" The other person shifted, uncomfortably.

"No, sir. He lost our tail days ago. By the time we got back to his apartment, he and the kid had already gone. We do know that he received a phone call just before he left, but the tap was unsuccessful, which would mean the person calling had used some type of scrambling device."

"What about his interest in Valentine?" There was something in the man's voice as he spoke the name that made the other person shiver.

"We don't know the connection yet, sir. There's nothing in either of their records indicating that they even know each other."

"Interesting. Sounds like our young friend is considering a rescue attempt." The man walked away from the table and moved over to a window. Several minutes passed before he spoke again. His voice dropped to a low rumble. "I have to admit, I wouldn't mind seeing her again myself. We do still have some unfinished business, after all."

"Should I make the arrangements, sir?" The other person wanted any excuse to get out of the room. The man turned around and removed his dark glasses. His red eyes cast an unholy light into the darkened room. 

"Absolutely."

***

__

Finally, I had a chance to finish this chapter. Sorry for the delay, but who among us can resist the call of vacation. I think the story is starting to heat up. Stay tuned. Thanks for all the feedback. Later, folks. 


	8. Truth or Consequences

Sacrifices8 ****

Sacrifices

Chapter 8: Truth or Consequences

Jill moaned, turning her face away from the bright light. She opened her eyes, slowly, trying to bring everything into focus. As her vision cleared, she attempted to lift her arms, but something was preventing it. Panic seized her as she picked her head up, pulling at the restraints that held her down.

"Tell him she's awake." A voice sounded to Jill's left. She looked over, seeing a woman in a lab coat standing several feet away. She heard a door close as she strained her neck to look behind her. 

Unable to free herself, Jill began to take in her surroundings. She was strapped to a table, which sat in the middle of a small room. There were no windows, save for a large black panel in the wall to Jill's right, which appeared to be some kind of viewing screen. And although she couldn't see the door, she rightly assumed it was behind her.

She started pulling at the straps, experimentally, trying to find a way to loosen them, when she finally took in her own appearance. Dressed only in her jeans, black tank top and socks, she realized all of the transmitters must have been found. Which probably meant that no one knew where she was.

__

Oh, God…

A cool hand touched her forehead, making Jill cry out in surprise. 

"Get your hands off me!" she shouted. The woman in the lad coat gave her a stern look.

"Settle down, or I'll give you another sedative", she responded, calmly. A small flashlight was shone in her eyes, making Jill flinch against the sudden brightness.

"Where am I?" Jill questioned. The woman continued to check her over, saying nothing. She jerked her head away from the probing hand.

"Where the hell am I?" she yelled. The woman gave her a look of impatience and reached into her pocket, removing a syringe. She made a point of removing the cap and pushing the plunger, expelling a small amount of fluid from the tip. 

"Right now, young lady, you are in a room with someone who will not tolerate this kind of behavior." She held the needle to Jill's arm and leaned over her helpless patient. Jill could feel the needle breaking the surface of her skin as the older woman's face hovered above her, menacingly. "Do you understand, Gillian?"

The two women stared at each other for a moment, a test of wills being waged, as Jill's ragged breathing punctuated the silence. Finally, Jill relented, nodding her head in compliance. The last thing she wanted was to be unconscious in this woman's presence. The woman straightened up and recapped the needle. 

"Good. Just remain calm, do as you're told, and we'll get along just fine." She dropped the syringe back into her coat pocket and started moving around the table, checking the straps that were holding Jill down. 

The woman picked her head up as she heard the door open. The corners of the room were cast in shadow by the lights above her, but Jill knew who it was the moment she heard his voice. 

"Hello, Doctor" he greeted. "I've just been informed that our guest has awakened." Jill's eyes followed him as he came forward to stand beside the table. "Well, Officer Valentine, it's a pleasure to see you again."

Jill looked at him with a puzzled expression. She had seen him somewhere before. 

"Who are you?" she asked. He noticed the look on her face and smiled.

"I suppose I should be insulted that you don't recall our prior meeting, but, of course, it was a very busy time in your life, what with the Spencer debacle, corruption charges, and then your suspension from the police force." He paused, waiting to see if he had jogged her memory. "Although, I must say, your life has continued to move at an extremely hectic pace for some time now, hasn't it?" 

Jill studied him, carefully. He was well over six feet tall, with a lean athletic build. His platinum blonde hair was kept neatly cropped. Instinctually, she thought he might have been in the military. But his eyes are what held her attention. They were a rich, green color. Almost like emeralds. 

That was when she remembered.

"The hearing…" Her voice trailed off. He smiled, broadly.

"So, you do remember. Now, I should be flattered."

"You lied", she stated, flatly. He nodded.

"True. But, it was for a good cause." Jill looked at him in disbelief.

"A good cause?" she said, incredulously. "You told them we were taking bribes, you son of a bitch!" Jill lifted herself as far off the table as she could, violently jerking at the straps around her forearms. 

"Now, now", he scolded. "You mustn't get yourself all worked up. Contrary to what you may believe, it was not our intention to do you any real harm. What happened at the Spencer estate was an accident, after all. If the remaining S.T.A.R.S. members had left well enough alone, we would never have attempted to destroy your careers. But, unfortunately, you persisted in your investigation, leaving us with little choice." Jill gave one final tug and dropped her head back to the table in frustration.

"Spare me the 'it was only an accident' story", she sighed. "You deliberately lured the police out there so you could gauge the performance of those abominations you created. The fact that our commanding officer was on your payroll made it very convenient. You could get the data you were looking for, and he would destroy all the evidence."

"Ah, yes…the mysterious Captain Wesker", he mused. Jill closed her eyes for a moment as her thoughts drifted back to the man who had almost killed her. His had been the ultimate betrayal. Her friends and teammates would still be alive if it weren't for Albert Wesker. 

"There was nothing mysterious about him", she spat. "He was a traitorous bastard that would sell his own soul for a buck." 

"You're right, of course. Still, he did get what was coming to him in the end, didn't he?" Jill decided to keep her recently acquired knowledge about Wesker to herself.

"And what about all the people in Raccoon City? Did they have it coming, too?"

"Another unfortunate accident. Once the virus made its way into the general public, the only way to stop it from spreading any further was to wipe out all traces of it. Umbrella did try to save all of the civilians in the city who were unaffected, but the virus spread much quicker than we had imagined. We even lost most of our own people in the process." Jill narrowed her eyes at him.

"Oh, you mean during 'Operation Watchdog'?" She knew by his expression that she had caught him by surprise, and it felt good.

"It appears that Colonel Ginovaef left out a few details of his encounter with you in Raccoon City." His tone belied a hint of respect.

"You needn't worry," Jill started, "Nicholai was the perfect killing machine Umbrella trained him to be. He murdered without remorse. You would have been proud." The man ignored Jill's sarcastic tone.

"He wasn't the only killing machine roaming around the city", he added. "And yet, somehow, you managed to outmaneuver them both. Your performance was quite impressive." Jill felt another swell of anger rising within her. She knew he was referring to that monster, that thing that had killed Brad right before her very eyes. A familiar pang of guilt flared up as she remembered that horrific moment. Although, logically, she knew there was nothing she could have done to save him, there was a part of her that believed she should have died trying. 

"Someday, Umbrella will pay for what it's done" she responded, dully. "You can't honestly believe that you'll get away with killing thousands of innocent people. If I managed to escape, you can be sure a lot of others did, as well." 

"The Colonel told us you had perished in the explosion", he announced.

"Wishful thinking", she shot back.

"Still, I can't help but wonder what other facts the Colonel may have, shall we say…embellished?" Jill remained silent. "Something else has come to light since your arrival here." 

"What?" she asked. He glanced sideways at the doctor, who had been standing by, listening.

"You've been exposed to the T-Virus." Jill's steely facade began to slip.

"How do you know that?" she demanded. 

"A simple blood test. Now, the question is, how did you survive?" Jill did not respond. He continued on. "There can only be one answer." He paused to bring his face down closer to Jill's. "Someone gave you the vaccine." Jill met his sharp gaze.

"You're right", she confirmed. "It was Nicholai. He had a change of heart and saved me." The man straightened up and grinned slightly.

"Very amusing. I see you have a sense of humor, Officer Valentine. That's good…because, you're going to need it." His expression turned serious.

"What do you want from me?" she questioned, trying to keep her voice steady. 

"You have information", he answered, simply. "The good doctor here has been requested to extract that knowledge." He waved his hand toward the woman, who was now standing on the other side of the table, looking down at Jill. She reached a hand into the pocket of her lab coat and smiled. The same pocket she had placed the syringe, Jill noted, feeling a shudder run down her spine. She turned to look back at the man.

"I won't tell you anything", she said, defiantly, knowing it was a lie. His smile returned. 

"Perhaps not. But, we'll never find out if I don't let the doctor get to work." He looked down at Jill and for a moment she thought she saw a look of sympathy in his eyes, until he smiled, and she realized it must have been her imagination. He turned and headed toward the door, pausing as his hand gripped the doorknob.

"I'll leave the two of you to get better acquainted." He closed the door quietly behind him. Jill looked up at the woman, feeling a knot of fear twisting in her stomach. The doctor pulled a tray over to the side of the table. 

"Shall we get started?" 

***

"Miss Ames!"

Claire realized that the desk clerk was calling to her. He had called out the name several times as she strode through the lobby, but she was not used to using an alias, and had been ignoring him. He finally came around from behind the desk and started after her. She turned to face him as he approached the elevator.

"Sorry", she offered. "I must have been a million miles away." The clerk smiled in understanding.

"No problem, Miss. I just wanted to give you this. It was left at the desk for you." 

"Are you sure it's for me?" she questioned, a tone of suspicion in her voice. No one else knew she was here except for her travelling companions. 

"Yes, I'm sure", he replied. "I came on duty late last night, just as the man dropped it off. His instructions were very specific." 

"What man?" she asked. 

"Mister Collins. Room 520. He gave it to me right after he checked out." Claire stared at the clerk for a moment. Something wasn't right here.

"About six foot two. With brown hair and blue eyes?" The clerk nodded.

"That sounds like him." Claire reached out and snatched the envelope from the young man's hand. The clerk glared at her in annoyance and turned to leave. She grabbed his arm as he turned away from her.

"What time did he check out." Her tone was almost frantic.

"Just before one a.m." He glanced down at her hand and she released him. "Will there be anything else?" Claire shook her head and slammed the elevator button.

***

"What do you mean he's gone?" Chris asked. "Gone where?" Claire turned her gaze to him. 

"I don't know." She handed him the letter she read only moments earlier. Chris took it from her and read it aloud, so everyone gathered could hear.

"Claire. Sorry I had to run off like this, but I think I may have a way to find Jill. Unfortunately, I can't take the rest of you with me. I haven't had a chance to tell you about what's been going on in my life since we separated in Raccoon. I've been working with an organization that's trying to get rid of Umbrella. They're called the HCF. The work I've been doing hasn't exactly been legal, but at least I feel like I've been able to take action. After you left, I nearly went crazy waiting to hear from you, and worrying about Sherry's safety, when these people approached me about coming to work for them. I was pretty skeptical, at first, since their method of recruiting me wasn't very reassuring. But, after some time passed, I realized that it could be a long time before I heard from you again, if ever. I didn't want to sit on my ass and wait for some Umbrella goons to come knocking at my door. I needed to find a way to keep Sherry safe, and these people did that for me. I know this doesn't make a lot of sense right now, but I will explain everything as soon as I can. In the meantime, I left you a cell phone so I can contact you the minute I have anything to report on Jill's whereabouts. I also left a key for you. It's to a safety deposit box at a bank in Los Angeles. Sherry will know the one. I've been stashing away as much money as I can, just in case I ever needed it for a rainy day. If you don't get a call from me within forty-eight hours, then chances are you probably won't hear from me at all. In that case, be sure to take the money and use it to take care of Sherry. You're the only person I can trust, Claire. I know she'll be safe with you. I'm sure you're about ready to kick my ass right now, and hopefully, you'll be able to get that chance. Take care of yourself. And give Sherry a hug for me, even if she thinks she's getting too old for them. Leon." Chris finished reading the letter, but continued to stare at it, a frown forming on his face.

"Great. First Carlos, and now Leon", Barry muttered. 

"What the hell is the 'HCF'?" Rebecca spoke up. Dick looked over at Claire.

"Can this guy really save my kid?" Claire reached out and took Sherry's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"If Leon says there's a chance, then I believe him", she responded, smiling at the younger girl. Sherry looked utterly miserable. 

"He shouldn't have gone alone", she said, softly. Claire knelt down and wrapped her arms around Sherry. 

"I'm supposed to give you this", she whispered, pulling her into a warm hug. "And don't worry about Leon. You know he always manages to land on his feet." She let go of Sherry and stood up, noticing that Chris was still staring at the letter. She walked over to stand in front of him. "What is it, Chris?" He picked his head up and she saw his face had turned ghostly pale. He reached out and gripped her shoulder.

"I've seen this before", he stated. Claire looked a bit confused.

"Saw what before?" she asked. He squeezed her shoulder tighter.

"HCF." Claire widened her eyes in surprise.

"Where?"

"Antarctica. It was on Wesker's uniform."

***

Leon made his way through the parking lot until he found the car he was looking for. He opened the back door and threw his suitcase in, then climbed into the front passenger seat. The driver regarded him with a cool expression.

"Hello, Leon." He turned to face the voice.

"Hello, Ellen. How are you?" The redhead focused her gaze on him. 

"I've been better. I don't understand the sudden need for all of this secrecy", she admonished. "I could have picked you up at the correct terminal." Leon grinned.

"I prefer to keep an air of mystery around my comings and goings, if you don't mind." Ellen eyed him, skeptically.

"There is a difference between being mysterious and being paranoid. One would think you didn't trust me, Leon." His smile faltered.

"Sorry, Ellen. Trust is a rare commodity these days." 

"Agreed."

"So, any news?" Ellen slipped two slender fingers into the breast pocket of her blazer and removed a small piece of paper. She handed it to him.

"She's located at their facility in Virginia." Leon read the note.

"I didn't know they had a place in Virginia." Ellen shot him a look. "Oh, I guess that's the point, right?" She ignored his question.

"Arrangements have already been made. Our team will attempt extraction in…" she paused to glance at her watch, "…three hours."

"Three hours?" Leon almost shouted. "I wanted to be there."

"There wasn't enough time", Ellen explained.

"But she doesn't know who they are. There's a chance she'll resist going along."

"Considering her current situation, that would be foolish." Leon sighed with exasperation.

"What if she gets hurt?" Ellen cast him a look of impatience.

"You asked me to help you, and I have. Now, let's leave that situation to be handled by those best qualified for it. In the meantime, we have other business to discuss." Leon eyed her with suspicion.

"What 'other' business?" he queried.

"I think it's time for you to meet our superior."

***

__

Well, another chapter, at long last. Sorry for the hiatus, but my computer ran amok. Fortunately, no small animals were harmed, but I was beginning to suffer from Internet withdrawals. The next chapter will be up very soon (as long as my little friend with the hard drive behaves). Later, folks. 


	9. Hopes and Dreams

Sacrifices ****

Sacrifices

Chapter 9: Hopes and Dreams

Carlos reached for his beer and tossed some money on the bar as he stood up from his seat. His eyes settled on a familiar face as he made his way to a table against the far wall. He slipped into the booth and waited for the man sitting on the opposite side to acknowledge him. A pair of weary eyes regarded him over a tumbler of scotch. 

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in." Carlos smiled.

"Hey, Larry. How are you?" Larry drained the contents of his glass. He placed it back on the table and began to run the tip of his finger along the rim.

"Okay, considering I'm talking to a corpse." Carlos reached a hand up to signal the waitress, but the other man waved him off. "No thanks, I've gotta be somewhere. I shouldn't have had the last two." Carlos shook his head and the waitress moved on. "What the hell are you doing here, man?" 

"I'm looking for someone." Larry grinned, although there was no humor in it.

"Ain't we all, my friend." His pale blue eyes rested on Carlos' face. "You're a real shit for never getting in touch with her, ya' know." 

"I know", Carlos responded, sadly. "But, she was better off." 

"Really? I'm not sure she'd see it that way." Larry glanced at his watch. "Losing you and Randy at the same time nearly killed her." Carlos' expression hardened.

"Look. Umbrella thought I was dead. I needed to keep it that way, okay?" he shot back, heatedly. "It wasn't safe for me to contact her. She would have led them right to me, and I couldn't let that happen. I had someone else depending on me."

"She depended on you, too", Larry responded. Carlos closed his eyes for a moment. He tried not to think about Alison Thomas, too often…or about her brother. Randy had been the only true friend Carlos had ever had...until Jill, of course. It wasn't in his nature to get close to people, but Randy and Allison Thomas had changed that. 

Carlos and Randy first met when they joined the ranks of the U.B.C.S. The young Miami native was only nineteen years old when he was paired with a twenty-year-old, self-proclaimed "surfin' dude". Randy and his sister, Allison, had relocated to Florida shortly after their mother's death. Having lived in California their entire lives, they both decided they needed a change of scenery. Randy's only concern was to be in a place that was warm and sunny, and had a lot of water. Carlos never really understood how a guy like that had ended up working for Umbrella. He seemed like too nice of a guy. 

So unlike Carlos, himself.

Randy could always make him laugh just when he needed it most. Even during some of the most intense missions they shared, he could count on Randy to make him feel at ease. After only two outings with the U.B.C.S., they were inseparable. 

Carlos met Allison after coming home from a training exercise in Louisiana. Both young men had returned tired and hungry, so Randy dragged him to his favorite restaurant for beer and pizza. He complained all the way there, until he spotted a very attractive blonde waitress coming to their table. When she spotted Randy she smiled, broadly, and leaned over to hug him. Carlos couldn't help hiding his disappointment until Randy introduced them, then his mood improved quickly, much to his friend's amusement. 

Although they never really dated, Carlos knew Allison had a thing for him, and he was all too happy to encourage it. He went out with a lot of girls, but usually just to get something and move on. The idea of a commitment to anyone was unthinkable. He had no desire to be tied down to anyone, and he knew that Allison had sensed this about him. He also knew that she was too good for him. So he continued to flirt with her and tease her, but he never crossed the line. He had respect for her, something he didn't have for many people. That's what had made his decision so difficult.

He knew he owed it to her to explain what happened to her brother, to tell her the real truth about Randy's death in Raccoon City. But, when he realized that Umbrella believed he was dead, it became too easy to hide. His desire to help Jill was definitely part of the reason he decided to let the lie be told, even knowing how devastated Allison would be, but there was also a part of him that was afraid to tell her. How could he make her understand what Randy had become? And that he had been the one to pull the trigger? In his heart, Carlos knew his friend was already dead when he fired those shots, but would Allison believe it?

"How is she?" Carlos asked, turning his attention back to the present. Larry sighed and shook his head.

"O.K. I guess. She's still grieving, but I think she's trying to move on, ya know?"

"Yeah." Larry checked his watch, again.

"Speaking of which, I gotta hit the road." He started to slide out of the booth when Carlos caught his arm.

"Wait. I need some information." Larry smirked at him.

"I figured you didn't just stop by to say hi. Walk me out to my car." He got up and headed to the door, with Carlos following close behind. Larry fumbled with his car keys as they walked through the parking lot. "So…you said you were looking for someone." Carlos looked about nervously as they approached Larry's car.

"I have a friend who's in some trouble. She got snatched up a few days ago and I've been trying to find her." Larry looked at Carlos with a troubled expression.

"Snatched up by who?" he asked, slowly.

"Umbrella." Larry whistled, softly. He locked eyes with Carlos.

"She's probably dead already." 

"I don't think so. At least, not yet. " Carlos crossed his arms and leaned on Larry's car. "That's why I came here, Larry. I have to find her…soon. And you're the only one that can help me."

"Maybe. But, not in the way you'd think." Carlos looked at him with a puzzled expression. "I don't work for Umbrella, anymore. Most of us don't. The U.B.C.S is all but gone, these days. I think, after what happened in Oregon, they decided not to rent out us 'mercenary types' anymore."

"Then what have you been doing?" Carlos questioned. "And how do you think you can help me?" 

"I've been doing some work for a company on the West Coast. Mostly industrial espionage, that kind of stuff. They're some kind of competitor. And who better to infiltrate Umbrella than the very people who use to work for them, right?" Carlos looked at him, skeptically.

"I guess. But, I still don't see how--"

"A group of us are doing a job tonight", Larry interrupted. "That's where I'm on my way to. Seems like your friend isn't the only one Umbrella snagged. We're going in to rescue some scientist they supposedly kidnapped. I won't know all the details 'til I get there, but maybe you could find out something about your friend."

"What? You mean, go with you?" Carlos asked, incredulously. Larry smiled and clapped Carlos on the shoulder.

"Sure, why not? We could always use the extra help. Of course, you wouldn't get paid for it, but who knows what you might find there? You don't know any of the people going in tonight, so the worst case scenario is you get caught on their security camera, or something. They're bound to find out about you one day, anyway, especially if you're poking your nose around. So, why not poke it where it might do the most good?" Carlos stood quietly, staring at the ground. This was a golden opportunity, he knew, but a very dangerous proposition. It meant going back into the belly of the beast. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear at the prospect, but he also knew he would do anything to help his friend.

"Okay" he started, looking up at his former teammate. "Let's go."

***

Rebecca moved about the hotel room, swiftly, packing up all of her belongings. She snatched a book off the table and tossed it into her suitcase, noticing something had fallen out from between the pages. Glancing at the floor, she bent down and picked up a photograph. 

Looking back at her were the smiling faces of what was once the Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S. team. She dropped onto the edge of the bed, lightly running a finger over the edge of the picture. So many of them were gone, now. Kenny. Rico. Joseph. All of her teammates were dead. Wiped out in one horrific afternoon. Even after all these months, she still had a hard time believing it. The fact that she survived long enough for the Alphas to find her was a miracle.

Her eyes drifted toward the face of Brad Vickers. Although the rest of the squad didn't have much use for Brad, Rebecca had always liked him. He was the first person at Tactics and Rescue to extend a hand in friendship toward her. The fact that she was so young made it difficult for the other members to take her seriously. Brad's status as a bit of an outcast made them gravitate toward each other. Which made his behavior during the Spencer incident all the more difficult to understand…or forgive. While Rebecca wouldn't consider herself the heroic type, she was at least able to pitch in when it counted. The fact that Brad had abandoned everyone when they needed him the most was incomprehensible. She had barely said two words to him after they all returned from that fateful mission. And although she knew it hurt him, there was a part of her that was glad he kept his distance. And now, he was dead, too.

Jill told them about what happened to Brad…about the _way_ he died. Rebecca found herself feeling guilty about the way she had treated him, even if he did deserve it. It wasn't until Jill confessed to her own guilt about Brad's death that Rebecca realized how foolish she had been. Jill didn't even like Brad, yet she felt some responsibility for not having tried to save him. Survivor's guilt was what they called it in her psychology classes. She could see they were all suffering with it in one form or another. Even Chris' sister Claire was still struggling with the death of her friend in the Antarctic. At night, Rebecca could hear her tossing and turning in her sleep, seized in the grip of a nightmare that would play in her mind over and over again.

Rebecca still found herself reliving some of the most horrendous moments of this unending ordeal in her own dreams. Sometimes the scenario would change, or the people would switch places. But, invariably the end result would be the same. Jill would die. Chris would die. Barry would die. And left alone to fight the monsters would be Rebecca Chambers, Bravo Team Medic. 

What a joke.

A knock at the door snapped Rebecca to attention and she quickly tucked the picture back into the book before zipping up the suitcase. 

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Barry's muffled voice sounded from behind the door. Rebecca snatched up her suitcase and hurried to the door. She pulled it open and held her suitcase aloft for visual inspection.

"Aye, aye, chief." Barry narrowed his eyes at her.

"You're getting' to be a real smart ass, Chambers." Rebecca beamed.

"Really?" she chirped. "I'm trying." Barry laughed, softly.

"I suppose someone has to fill Claire's shoes until she feels more like her old self", he remarked. Rebecca's smile faltered.

"Have you heard from them yet?" she questioned. Barry shook his head.

"No. Their flight doesn't get in until six. Don't worry. I'm sure they're fine." Rebecca nodded. 

"Yeah. Umbrella would be crazy to take on two Redfields at the same time, right?" Barry flashed a brief smile. "What about Dick?" 

"He packed a while ago so I suggested he try and get some sleep. He looks like shit. Hardly slept a wink since Jill's been gone. I told him we'd come and get him when it was time to go." Barry reached for Rebecca's suitcase. "Let's move."

"Hold on a second" Rebecca responded, kneeling down as she lay her suitcase on the floor. Barry watched as she unzipped the top and pulled out a book. She slipped something from between the pages and put the book back. She closed up her luggage and hoisted it up as she stood. Barry glanced at the item in her hand. 

"A picture?" he asked. Rebecca handed it to him without a word, watching as he stared at it, thoughtfully. Suddenly, an emotion flashed across his face that she couldn't quite read. She reached a hand out and placed it on his arm.

"What is it, Barry?" He thrust the picture back at her. 

"That bastard shouldn't be in it." Rebecca took it from him and looked at it, again. Her eyes were drawn to a familiar face. She shuddered as she gazed at his image. The ever present sunglasses covering his cold, murderous eyes. Of course none of them had seen it coming, but the memory of what he had done would stay with all of them, forever. 

Especially, Barry. 

Rebecca tucked the picture into her back pocket, following Barry as he grabbed her suitcase and headed toward the elevator.

***

Dick Valentine was dreaming…

__

"Good job, Jilly." He clapped a hand on his daughter's shoulder as she looked back at him with a wide grin. They both stood up from their kneeling positions, as Jill slowly turned the doorknob, swinging it wide with a quick push.

"That'll come in handy if I ever lock myself in the basement, right Dad?" Dick laughed and followed her into their back hall. He handed her the slim leather case from his shirt pocket and she dutifully began to put away the small tools.

"It sure beats breaking a window." He headed into the kitchen and grabbed a can of beer from the fridge. As he popped the top, Jill's voice rang out from the hallway.

"Dad!" He stepped back into the hall and found his daughter pointing at another door. Dick looked at it with a puzzled expression. He didn't remember a door being there before. He slowly stepped toward it and gripped the knob, tugging it firmly.

It was locked.

"Can I try it, Dad?" He glanced down at Jill, who was staring intently at this newest challenge. Before he could even answer she was crouched before it, working feverishly. He stood, transfixed, as Jill slipped the metal posts into the keyhole. He suddenly wanted to object, but couldn't bring himself to speak. A light sheen of sweat broke out on Jill's brow as she continued to manipulate the small mechanism, chewing her lower lip in concentration. 

He heard an audible click.

No.

Jill looked over at him and smiled. 

No.

She stood up and placed a hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly.

"No, Jill!" He finally called out, too late. Her smile abruptly disappeared as she swung the door open, replaced by a look of utter horror. A large shadow emerged from the other side of the threshold; it's dark hands stretching forward to grab her.

"Daddy!"

Dick was frozen. He couldn't move. Jill looked back, pleadingly, reaching her arms out to him. 

"Daddy, please!" she cried out. "Don't let it get me!" The apparition took a hold of her and began to drag her toward the door. Jill continued to scream as she thrashed about, trying to twist out of its grasp. She locked eyes with her father as she struggled. "You promised Mom!" she began to shout. "You promised her you'd take care of me!"

Dick's paralysis broke as he lunged forward to grab Jill's hands. But he only succeeded in brushing the tips of her fingers before she disappeared; her final scream cut off, as the door slammed shut. He reached for the doorknob and began to pull on it frantically. 

"I'm coming, Jilly!" he shouted, as he continued to pull with all his might. The door finally gave as Dick slammed back against the wall. He slumped to the floor as the door swung open, offering him a full view of what was on the other side.

Darkness.

He crawled forward on his hands and knees, looking into a void. It seemed as though nothing could penetrate the absolute blackness as he peered in, moving closer. Suddenly, something began to emerge from the inky depths.

A pair of blood red eyes…

"Nooooooo!"

Dick sat up quickly, his hands waving at empty air. He gasped for breath, struggling to free himself of the nightmarish image, as his eyes darted back and forth, looking for some unknown danger. After a few moments, he could feel his heartbeat slowing down. He swung his legs off the bed, resting his arms on his knees, as he buried his head in his hands.

For the first time since his wife died, he could feel the sting of tears in his eyes. 

The sound of a key turning in the lock caught his attention. He wiped at his eyes and stood up as Barry and Rebecca entered the room. 

"Hey, Dick. Manage to get any shut eye?" Barry asked. 

"Sleep's overrated", he muttered. Rebecca and Barry exchanged a quick glance. The strain on his face was evident to both of them. Rebecca stepped forward and put a reassuring hand on his arm.

"We'll find her." Dick looked at her with such intensity that Rebecca found herself lowering her gaze. She pulled her hand away and walked to the door. "We better get going if we want to catch our flight." Barry nodded in agreement.

"With any luck, by the time we get to LA, Chris will have more info." he offered, following Rebecca out the door. Dick grabbed his bag and started to walk out behind them. He paused in the doorway, reaching out to shut off the light.

"I've never been one to rely on luck'", he whispered, taking one final look around before shutting the door and plunging the room into darkness.

***

__

Well, that's it for now. I hope people are still reading, what with all the trouble fanfiction.net has been having recently (not to mention an author who has been so busy enjoying the summer that chapters have been appearing a bit sporadically). Anyway, I should have the next chapter up by the end of the week. So long, for now! 


	10. Observations and Interrogations

Sacrifices ****

Sacrifices

Chapter 10: Observations and Interrogations

Chris approached the door with caution, casting a quick glance over his shoulder to look at Claire and Sherry.

"This is it?" he asked. 

Sherry nodded. Chris pressed his ear to the door as Claire kept an eye on the empty hallway. Satisfied there was no one moving around on the other side, he gripped the doorknob and gave it a quick twist, only to find it locked.

"Where are you when I need you, Jill", he muttered under his breath.

Claire looked over at him. "What was that?"

"Nothing. Just keep an eye out. I'm gonna have to make a little noise."

"Chris…" she warned.

Chris threw his shoulder against the door, putting most of his considerable muscle weight into the movement. The door shook in its frame but wouldn't budge. He stepped back a couple of feet and rammed the door again, feeling it give way as he steadied himself to keep from falling over the threshold.

"Well, that certainly won't attract any attention", Claire said, sarcastically. She gripped Sherry's shoulder as the young girl attempted to follow Chris inside. "Give him a minute, Sweetie, so he can take a quick look around." She continued to look back and forth down the hallway, certain that someone would come running out of their apartment at any minute to see what the noise was all about.

Sherry watched in silence as Chris held his gun aloft and entered the apartment. She knew something wasn't right. If there was one thing she had learned from all of the horrible events of recent memory it was to pay attention to her instincts. As if confirming what she already knew, Chris' voice traveled out to them from behind the door.

"Shit."

Claire removed a gun from beneath her jacket and stepped around Sherry to look inside. She peeked around the door to get a better view of the interior, only to find it in utter chaos, completely and thoroughly ransacked.

Chris looked back at her. "Looks like someone beat us to it." 

Claire frowned. "Maybe coming here wasn't such a good idea. Whoever did this could still be watching the place, waiting for Leon to come back." She tucked her gun away and motioned for Sherry to follow her. "It's okay, Sherry."

Sherry's eyes went wide as she stepped inside and took a look around. The apartment she and Leon had been staying in just prior to their reunion with Claire was unrecognizable to her. Furniture had been turned upside down, the cushions strewn about, stuffing protruding through gaping slashes. The small kitchenette was in a shambles. The cabinet doors stood open, the previous contents now lying all over the tiled floor in pieces. The small desk in the corner was turned on its side, the drawers having been removed and thrown to the floor. The young girl stood in silence, watching Chris move about the place. Even though she didn't know him very well, she could certainly tell he was getting upset. And she knew she wasn't the only one who noticed.

Claire approached Chris and reached a hand out to touch his arm. "We shouldn't hang around here, Chris."

"I know." He sighed, heavily, while rubbing his palm across his forehead. "It was a long shot, anyway." He shot a quick look at Claire. "How are you holding up?"

Claire looked taken aback. "Me? I'm fine."

Chris eyed her skeptically. "You must be worried about him." It was a statement.

"Well. Of course I am. But, Leon can take care of himself." She had no intention of letting on just how concerned she was, certainly not with Sherry in the room.

Chris caught himself as his eyes wandered to look over at the younger girl. He wasn't used to having a child around, even though Sherry thought of herself as more of an adult. Sometimes, Chris found himself thinking of her that way, as well. She had already experienced more hardship in her short lifetime than most people, and handled it incredibly well. He realized she must be sick with worry about Leon, as well, probably more than anyone. 

"Did you leave anything behind, Sherry?" he asked.

The young blonde made eye contact with him, briefly, before turning away. "No. We always traveled light. Leon said we should be able to pack and go on a moments notice." 

Chris smiled. "Smart guy."

Sherry offered a tiny smile in return. "Yeah, he was…" A look of horror flashed across her face as she cupped her hands over her mouth. "I mean…is…he is", she stammered. Tears began to well up in her eyes.

Claire immediately went to her and pulled her into a hug. "It's okay, Sherry." The young girl continued to cry in near silence as Claire spoke softly into her ear. "I'm sure he's fine. I know we'll hear from him any minute--"

The cell phone in Claire's pocket began to ring, making her jump. She pulled it out and hit the button, keeping one arm draped around Sherry's shoulders.

"Leon?" 

Chris could see the look of relief on his sister's face. He watched as Sherry reached up and entwined her fingers with Claire's hand as it rested on her shoulder, her intense gaze pinned on the older woman.

"Where are you?" Claire looked at Sherry and mouthed 'he's okay' before turning back to the conversation. "So am I", she responded. "Chris and Sherry are with me." Claire smiled at Sherry and squeezed her hand. "She's fine." Sherry smiled back. 

Chris walked over to stand in front of Claire. "What about Jill?"

Claire stood up as Sherry released her hand. She reached out and gripped Chris by the arm. "Did you find out anything about Jill?" She listened, intently, to his response.

It was all Chris could do to keep from grabbing the phone out of Claire's hand. He was getting desperate. Jill had been gone for days now, and he was about to go out of his mind if he didn't find out something. Even just the knowledge that she was still alive would be enough to keep him going. As long as he knew she was still out there, he would never give up searching for her. He felt Claire's grip on his arm tightening. She kept her gaze pinned on him. 

"That's great news, Leon", she answered, breaking the silence that had descended on the room. "But, there's something else I have to tell you. There's a chance that Albert Wesker is working for the same group as you. He was the cop that was working for Umbrella." Claire hesitated, waiting for a response.

There was none. 

She felt her heart begin to beat faster. 

"Leon?" 

Still no response.

"Leon!" she shouted into the phone. "Leon, answer me!"

Chris grabbed the phone from her hand.

"Leon?" He spoke, loudly, but continued to hear silence on the other end. He tried one more time. "Leon?" There was only dead air. 

Claire reached out and took the phone back, hitting the button to end the call. 

"Maybe he just lost a cell, or something", she said, softly.

Chris put his hands on her shoulders. "What did he say about Jill?"

Claire shook her head. "I'm sorry…um, he said she 's being held somewhere in Virginia and they sent a team in to rescue her. In fact, it should be going down right now."

"Where is he…and where are they going to take Jill?" he pressed. 

Claire stared at him for a moment. "He's in LA, but that's all I got. I told him we were here, as well, but he didn't get a chance to tell me anything else. I don't even know how much he heard about Wesker."

Chris took a few steps back and turned to face the wall. "Goddammit!" he shouted, slamming his fist into the wall. "We're no better off than we were when we started!" He leaned against the wall, resting his forehead on the cool surface.

"At least we know she's still alive, Chris" Claire offered. "And, hopefully, they'll get her away from Umbrella."

Chris pushed away from the wall and spun around to face her. "Yeah…so she can end up in Wesker's hands. I don't know which is worse."

Claire sighed, heavily. She had never seen her brother like this before, had never heard him sound so defeated. Although she knew he cared for Jill, it was obvious those feelings ran deeper than she had realized. 

In the aftermath of their flight from Antarctica, Chris had spent some of that time trying to coax her into talking about Steve. Mostly, she tried not to think about him. The pain was too intense with everything still so fresh in her mind. But late at night, when her defenses were down, the horrible nightmares would plague her sleep. It was during those awful nights that her brother would hold her hand while she poured out her grief. She had never needed him more, and he was there for her every step of the way. It was time for her to return the favor.

She walked over to him and placed her hands on his face. "Don't give up on her, big brother. After everything the two of you have been through, together and separately, you still managed to find each other again. There's no reason to think that this time will be any different." 

Chris reached up and pulled her hands away, still clasping them loosely as he brought them down to her sides. He was struck by the memory of Jill using that same gesture when they had been alone on the mountain the day she was taken away. He closed his eyes, briefly, conjuring up an image of her face in his mind. He opened them again to find Claire still looking up at him. He smiled and squeezed her hands before releasing them.

"I'm sure we'll hear from Leon again", he said. "In the meantime, let's get the hell out of here."

Claire grinned and looked over at Sherry, holding a hand out to her. "You ready, kiddo?"

Sherry gave a quick nod, trying to return her friends enthusiasm. "You bet."

The two girls left the room hand in hand, followed by Chris, who closed the door behind him. Claire and Sherry began talking quietly as they headed out the front door of the building. Their soft tones were punctuated by an occasional giggle from the younger girl as Claire hugged her from behind, poking her in the stomach as they made their way down the street. Chris stayed a few paces behind, a small grin forming on his face as he watched his two companions.

On a rooftop across the street a lone figure observed the trio in silence as a camera shutter clicked away. 

***

"What the hell did you do that for?" Leon demanded.

Ellen calmly walked over and picked up a few stray pieces of the cell phone she had thrown at the wall only seconds before. "For your own good, Leon. You know the rules." She dropped the pieces on the bed where Leon sat.

"I wasn't telling them anything I shouldn't have."

Ellen raised one manicured eyebrow. "You told them you were in LA."

Leon scowled at her. "So?"

The redhead eyed him, coolly. "So, that was something they didn't need to know."

Leon threw his hands up in a gesture of futility. "That's ridiculous, Ellen. I didn't tell them where we were, just what city we were in. LA is a big place. Besides, I had to tell them about Jill." 

"So far, there is nothing to tell."

Leon stood up and pointed a finger at her. "That's where you're wrong. I had to make that call."

Ellen watched him as he began to pace back and forth. "Who were you talking to?"

He stopped in front of her. "That's something _you_ don't need to know."

Leon dropped back down to lay on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head. He was glad that he was able to get a message to Claire, but there was something else she had wanted to tell him. Unfortunately, he never got to hear what that something was, thanks to Ellen. Now, with no phone at his disposal, he would have to wait for an opportunity to contact Claire again. He just had to find a way to get rid of his redheaded watchdog.

After Ellen picked him up at the airport, they had driven straight to HCF Headquarters. It was an unassuming building, nestled in among a group of warehouses in a somewhat dilapidated part of the city. The run down appearance of the brick and steel façade did a nice job of helping the company to keep a low profile. It certainly didn't look like the type of place a business trying to overthrow Umbrella would operate in.

Each time Leon entered the premises, he was still taken aback by the sheer size of the facility. The street level area was comprised of mostly small administrative offices, along with a loading dock on each end, nothing particularly impressive to look at. But, it was the lower levels that served to astonish him.

The first time he had been given a tour, he was overwhelmed by the amount of activity taking place within its walls. There were pharmaceutical laboratories on one level, research and production areas on another. Although the company was considered new to the game, it was apparent that its star was on the rise. 

But, this was not really the company that Leon worked for. The business operations held no allure for him. It was the level below that he was interested in. The highly secretive department engaging in industrial espionage. This was the place where he waged his private war against Umbrella. And, so far, it seemed to be the only way to hit them.

"Is anyone home?"

Leon glanced over at Ellen. "Huh?"

Ellen looked annoyed. "I asked you a question, but it's obvious your mind is somewhere else."

Leon turned his gaze back toward the ceiling. "What was the question?"

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" she repeated.

Leon sat up and ran his hands through his hair. "No. What I want is to get this show on the road. I've been here for almost a whole day, and I haven't seen or heard a goddamn thing, except you." He added as an afterthought. "No offense."

Ellen was unperturbed. "None taken." She got up and disappeared into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a glass of water. "I already explained about the delay to retrieve you friend. We had to be very careful about the timing, and our source told us to wait. We got the green light shortly before eight o'clock and our team has been dispatched."

"What about our meeting?" he questioned. 

"He's been tied up with other matters. I'm sure we'll hear from him soon. When we do, I'll take you to meet him." 

Leon was beginning to lose his patience. "During all this waiting around, I could have gone to Virginia and helped."

"That would not have been wise. We couldn't afford another rescue mission."

Leon smirked. "Was that supposed to be funny?"

Ellen smiled. "No." The beeper in Ellen's pocket went off. She pulled it out and glanced at the display. "That's our cue." She set her drink down on the table and headed for the door. "Coming?"

Leon jumped up. "Right behind you."

They headed down the corridor towards the elevators. Leon began to wonder which level they would be heading down to when Ellen reached out and pressed the top button.

"We're going up?" he asked.

"Yes." Ellen glanced over her shoulder. "You seem surprised."

Leon shrugged. "I guess I was expecting something more covert. I mean, you people are so nuts about secrecy, I figured he had some elaborate digs at the bottom level, or something."

"Who says he doesn't?"

Leon was about to pursue that topic of conversation when the elevator arrived. 

As the doors opened, Ellen made a gesture with her hand. "After you."

The two rode in silence back up to the street level. Leon followed close behind as Ellen lead the way toward an office in the back of the building. When they reached the door, she held a hand up to knock. Suddenly, she paused.

Leon narrowed his eyes at her. "Is something wrong?" For the first time since the day they met, he thought she seemed unsure of what to say.

"No." She hesitated, trying to choose her words carefully. "I just thought I should warn you about something before we go in."

Leon began to feel uneasy. "Warn me about what?"

"He can be a bit…intense." 

Leon frowned. "What does that mean?"

Ellen shook her head. "Just be careful."

"Be careful of what?" he asked, irritably.

The young woman sighed. "Of giving away too much." She reached up and knocked on the door.

A voice on the other side called out. "Come in, Ellen."

She opened the door and stepped into the office. "I've brought our most recent member, as you requested. Leon Kennedy, this is the vice-president of HCF Enterprises, Andrew Wallace."

Leon stepped forward and reached a hand out as the man seated behind the desk rose to greet him. The first thing he noticed was that the man wore sunglasses…even though it was dark outside. 

"Nice to meet you" he said, casually.

Andrew shook his hand, firmly. "Hello, Leon."

"Would you prefer me to stay or leave?" Ellen asked.

"You can leave, Ellen" Andrew responded. "It's time Leon and I got better acquainted. And I think you've done enough babysitting for one day." 

Her expression remained neutral. "Very well. Good evening, gentlemen." She spun on her heel and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Leon watched her exit with some amusement. It was obvious to him that she was annoyed at being dismissed so soon, even though she didn't show it. He turned his gaze back to Andrew and studied him carefully. The man was an imposing figure when standing up, being at least several inches taller than Leon. Something about Andrew Wallace made Leon uncomfortable, although he couldn't explain what that something was. Maybe the fact that he couldn't see the man's eyes was the first place to start.

"Sit down." Andrew sat back down in his chair and clasped his fingers behind his head as he leaned back. "I've heard good things about you."

Leon took a seat. "I wish I could say the same."

Andrew narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

Leon sighed. "What I mean is, I haven't heard a thing about you. I've been working for HCF for months now, and this is the first time we've met."

Andrew waved a hand in the air. "Well, I'll admit I'm a bit obsessed about my privacy, but I'm sure you can understand why. After all, you've been trying to keep a low profile, as well."

Leon nodded. "True. But that didn't really do me any good, did it? 

Andrew leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk. "Listen, Leon. When I needed to put together a group of people to do this job, the logical place to start was in Raccoon City. No one has a better understanding of the danger Umbrella poses than the survivors of that horrible tragedy do. It seemed likely that at least some of their police force would have made it through. And I also know that trying to get any other authorities to believe the stories that they have to tell would be impossible. Believe me, I know." 

Leon remained silent.

Andrew continued, "When I first found out about the lab accident at the Spencer estate, I tried to tell myself it was an isolated incident. I arrogantly believed that the work Umbrella was doing was infinitely more important than anything else, and in my mind, I could justify the cover up."

"You worked for Umbrella?" Leon interrupted.

Andrew nodded. "Yes…as much as I'm ashamed to admit it. But, I paid a price. A very heavy one, at that." He stood from his chair and walked over to the window on the far side of the room.

"We've all paid a heavy price for Umbrella's ambition." Leon said, angrily. "And you're right about the authorities turning a blind eye to what's going on." He stared at Andrew's back for a moment before continuing. "There are other people who are fighting back."

Andrew smiled to himself. "Like your friend?"

Leon hesitated, Ellen's warning still ringing in his thoughts. He wasn't sure how much he should say about Jill. "I'm just trying to help her out."

Andrew turned to look at Leon and strode back to his desk. He sat down, opened the top drawer, and removed a manila folder. He flipped it open and took a moment to study it, closely. "Gillian Valentine. Born February 14, 1976 in Deerfield, Illinois. Mother: Elizabeth, died of cancer in 1989. Father: Richard, was serving a 15-25 year sentence for Grand Larceny at Leominster County Corrections until his escape eight days ago, current whereabouts unknown." 

Leon began to drum his fingers on the arm of his chair. He sat silently watching Andrew's eyes as they skimmed down the page.

Andrew continued, "A member of Raccoon City, Oregon's elite 'Special Tactics and Rescue Squad'. Injured in an attempt to rescue fellow officers who went down in a helicopter crash in the Arklay Mountains. Suspended from the RPD amid accusations of bribery and extortion, along with several other officers. Investigation was still underway at the time of the environmental disaster, which claimed the lives of thousands of city residents. Although unconfirmed, it is believed that Valentine left Raccoon City prior to the U.S. Military's intervention."

Leon finally spoke. "Well, you've certainly done your homework. Do you know what she eats for breakfast?" he quipped.

Andrew looked up at him. "This is some friend you've got here, Leon." He closed the folder and laid it down on his desk. "You asked for our help. I have to make it my business to know what we're getting into. Care to tell me why she's so important to Umbrella?"

"Like I said, there are other people who are fighting back", Leon answered.

"Any chance she'd want to work for us?" Andrew asked.

"You'd have to ask her." Leon stood up and began to walk around the room. "So, have you heard anything from the extraction team?"

"Not since they went in…which was about twenty minutes ago." 

Leon stopped and looked at Andrew. "I am grateful, you know."

Andrew smiled. "I know. Why don't you head back to your room and I'll inform you as soon as there's any news."

Leon nodded. "Okay. But, I am getting a little stir crazy here. Maybe, I'll just take a quick walk before I head down. The night air might calm me down." And, hopefully, there will be a pay phone around, he thought. 

Andrew sighed. "Sorry, Leon, but we've already shut down for the evening. You know the rules. No one goes out after 8pm. Security reasons."

Leon shook his head. "Right. I forgot." He headed to the door and opened it.

Andrew called out. "One more thing before you go."

Leon looked over at him. "Yeah?"

"You owe us for this."

"I know." Leon closed the door on his way out.

The man behind the desk smiled, broadly, as he opened the folder, once again. Leaning back in his chair, he removed the blank piece of paper from inside, crumpling it in his hands. He tossed it across the room in a high arc, where it landed in a small wastebasket. He knew all he needed to know about Jill Valentine. In fact, he knew everything about her. Her and the rest of those miserable S.T.A.R.S. that left him for dead. It was only a matter of time before he would have his revenge. 

Albert Wesker began to laugh. 

***

Jill was floating in a haze. She was still conscious on some level, but only truly aware of two things.

The pain and the voice.

The pain had ceased, but she knew it was only temporary. The voice would begin to murmur softly into her ear, and she would try to resist the temptation to speak. If she were successful, the agony would begin again, but, either way, she would have to listen to that voice. 

She hated that voice…

"Gillian?"

Jill squeezed her eyes shut.

"Gillian, I want an answer."

She was even beginning to hate the sound of her own name.

"Where are they?"

Her throat was so dry. She wanted water. "Wa…"

"What was that?"

Jill forced the word out, her voice sounding hoarse and rough. "Water."

"Alright, Gillian. I'll give you some water…if you give me an answer."

Jill turned her head, slightly, and tried to focus on the woman sitting beside her. It was mostly a blur of light and shadow. The face leaned in so close; Jill could feel the other person's breath on her cheek. 

"Fuck you", she croaked. 

"How very disappointing, Gillian."

The rush of heat went through Jill's body so fast that she didn't have time to take a deep breath. As her muscles seized, her limbs went rigid. Every part of her body was in agony, but she could no longer cry out. The cramping in her extremities was so intense, she prayed that she would pass out. 

But, the doctor made sure that didn't happen. The voice began to drone on in her ear while she endured the indescribable torture the woman inflicted. And just when Jill could feel herself falling into darkness, the cold flushed through her veins and brought her back. And the pain subsided…for now.

But, not the voice.

"Gillian…" The doctor was trying to hide her frustration. "Why don't you make it easy on yourself and answer my question." She softened her tone. "You're in control, Gillian. You have the power to end this. Your friends wouldn't blame you. You've held out for so long, but it's time to ease your pain. Don't you want it to be over?"

Jill tossed her head from side to side as the woman's words tried to break her down. She couldn't remember when this all began. It seemed like she had been laying on this table forever. Why couldn't the voice just leave her alone? 

"Your father wouldn't want you to go through this, would he?" The doctor cradled Jill's face, gently, as she wiped her forehead with a damp cloth. "He must be worried sick about you. Don't you want to see him again?"

Jill made a small sound. The doctor smiled, knowing she struck a nerve.

"They're not interested in him, Gillian...just the others. If you tell me where they are, you can see your father again." 

"No…" Jill whispered.

"Yes, Gillian", the doctor soothed. "They've promised me they won't hurt him. They just want information. If you answer my question, you can see your father. And the pain will stop. You know it's what your father would want you to do." The doctor leaned in closer, her lips brushing Jill's ear, lightly. "Tell me and they'll let you go."

Jill could barely form a coherent thought. But, she knew one thing; the voice lied to her. She knew that she had to hold on to that. It was so tempting to just be done with it, to just answer the questions. Her mind and body were so tired. It seemed to be the only way of escaping from this torment. But, she knew there was no escape. Except for dying…

But, they wouldn't let her die. She knew that, too.

"Tell me." The doctor was getting impatient. She had been at this now for more than two days and still had nothing to show for her efforts. Interrogating people was something she had gotten extremely proficient at, yet this one girl resisted all of her attempts, thus far. What had started out as a worthy challenge was quickly beginning to blight her reputation. And she would not stand for it.

The doctor reached a hand up and flipped the switch on Jill's I.V., watching with satisfaction as the young woman's body began to seize. She stood up and gripped the sides of Jill's head, holding it in place as she spoke. 

"You should have told me what I wanted to know, Gillian" she whispered, looking down at her patient's face as it twisted in agony. "I would have made it painless." 

Jill's body suddenly went still.

***

__

You know, I wasn't going to end it there, but I couldn't resist. This chapter was a bit longer than I intended, so you'll have to tune in next time to find out what the heck happened to Carlos! In regards to Jill's birthday, I read that on a web page somewhere (I seem to recall it was a timeline of events from the entire series, although I can't remember who did it), but I thought it was a hoot. It seems whenever I mention when the next chapter will be posted, fanfiction.net has some kind of problem. I think I must be jinxing it. So let's just say I'll post it asap, okay? And I just wanted to say a quick thanks to Bloodlover for the faithful reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Later, folks.


	11. Out of the Frying Pan...

Sacrifices ****

Sacrifices

Chapter 11: Out of the Frying Pan…

Carlos crept along the corridor, moving silently as he watched Larry reach the corner just ahead of him. There were four other figures bringing up the rear as the group continued to make their way deeper into the complex. 

Getting into the facility had been fairly simple, something that just didn't sit well with Carlos. He knew the way Umbrella worked, and leaving a building virtually unprotected was not their modus operandi. Still, he was grateful that at least there were no zombies to contend with. Somehow the idea of facing armed soldiers seemed like a day at the beach after some of the things he had encountered in Raccoon City.

Larry made a gesture with his hand as he peered around the corner. Carlos gripped his rifle a bit tighter, enjoying the weight of it, as he came up behind his friend.

"This is the right floor", Larry whispered. "The room we want is over there." He pointed a finger toward the last door on the right. The rest of the group took their positions as Carlos and Larry headed down to the end of the hall. They stood with their backs to the wall on either side of the door.

Larry held his hand up, counting down with his fingers. Three…Two…One…

Carlos stepped forward and kicked the door in as Larry charged in with his weapon held out in front of him. The two men quickly scanned the room for any possible threats before closing the door behind them.

The doctor turned around, startled by the intrusion, and began to back away from the two men. "Who are you?" she demanded. "You have no right to be here!"

Larry leveled his gun at the woman as he stepped closer to her. "Sorry to interrupt, Doc, but we're just here for your patient." He continued moving toward her, menacingly, until her back hit the wall. "Just keep quiet and we won't have a problem." 

Carlos watched the two carefully as he made his way toward the figure on the gurney. The blood drained from his face as he recognized the still form.

"Jill?" he whispered.

Larry spun his head around at the sound of Carlos' voice. "You know her?"

Carlos slung his rifle over his shoulder and put a hand to her cheek, tapping it softly. "She's the friend I told you about." He undid the straps holding her down and called her name again, but there was no response. He placed two fingers against her neck, feeling a weak pulse. A sense of Déjà vu crept over him as he lay his hand across her forehead. She was burning up. Just like before… 

Larry pulled the doctor by the arm, shoving her towards the gurney. He watched as Carlos continued to try and revive Jill. "I don't suppose your friend here is a scientist, huh?"

Carlos lifted his head, his eyes filled with murderous intent. "No…" he responded, reaching out to grab the doctor by her coat. "But, someone else here is." He twisted the collar, savagely, as he yanked her across his friend's prone body. 

The doctor stared at him with contempt. "Let go of me!"

Carlos twisted a little tighter. "What have you done to her?" He pulled her even closer, leaving mere inches between their faces. "Tell me!" he shouted.

The doctor glanced over at the empty IV packs lying on the tray nearby. Carlos followed her gaze, a knot of fear forming in his stomach as he caught sight of them. 

"Jesus…Is that--" A whistle from outside interrupted him. 

Larry rushed to the door. "We gotta move. Now!" 

Carlos ignored him; still keeping his attention focused on the doctor. "What was in those bags?" The doctor remained silent.

Larry moved swiftly, bringing the butt of his gun up and hitting the doctor from behind. 

Carlos let go of her as she slid to the floor. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"Because, we have to get the hell out of here, Carlos" Larry replied. "Now, grab your friend and let's screw." He pulled the door open and stood aside.

A second whistle sounded, jolting Carlos into action. He picked Jill up, trying to be as gentle as he could, and ran through the door, with Larry right behind him.

***

"So that's about it", Chris stated.

Barry leaned forward in his chair. "And Leon didn't give you any clue as to where he might be?"

Chris frowned, shaking his head. "No. All Claire got out of him was that he's in LA." He tilted the bottle of beer back and drained its contents.

Dick stopped his pacing and looked at Chris. "Do you know anything about this HCF group he mentioned in his letter?"

Chris sighed. "From what little information I could get, they appear to be some kind of rival pharmaceutical company. They have a place of operations somewhere in LA, but no one I've spoken to can seem to tell me its location."

"That sounds a bit strange, don't you think?" Rebecca offered. "I mean, if they're trying to compete with a giant like Umbrella, it would help if people knew where they were."

Barry rubbed his beard, thoughtfully. "That still doesn't sound like the group Leon was talking about. He said they were trying to take down Umbrella, not cut into their profit margin."

"Unless, the company is a cover for something else", Chris interjected.

"Like what?" Dick asked.

Chris tapped the empty bottle on his knee. "Well, if Wesker is involved with these people, they've got to be up to no good."

Rebecca held a hand up. "But, what about Leon? He wouldn't have any dealings with someone like Wesker. No matter how much he wants to get back at Umbrella."

"You're probably right", Chris agreed. "Still, there's nothing saying that they can't be working together without realizing it. After all, Leon and Wesker have never met. And all Leon knows about him is what we've told him. Which isn't much." 

Barry's expression was somber. "So, what now?"

"It's too late to do anything else tonight." Chris' voice sounded weary. "I have a few leads we can run down in the morning. Until then, I suggest we all try to get some sleep."

Dick spoke up. "There's still one thing I don't get here."

"What's that?" Barry asked.

"Well, if this Wesker guy was working for Umbrella, why is he also involved with this other group?" 

Chris frowned. "I think Wesker and Umbrella may have had a parting of the ways after the Spencer mess." He stood up and tossed his bottle into the wastebasket. 

"Why is that?" Dick asked.

Chris stared at Dick for a moment. He wasn't quite sure how to explain what he had witnessed. Wesker's newfound abilities were a mystery to him. And even now, he still found it difficult to believe. But, there was no denying the fact that the man was still alive. Chris had seen that with his own eyes. 

The last time Chris Redfield saw Albert Wesker was in the Spencer estate. While fleeing from the lab where his former commander had intended for him to die, Chris had taken one last look behind him as he ran. The tyrant creature had Wesker suspended in the air, one giant, razor sharp claw plunging through his midsection. The gory sight had left Chris transfixed, watching, as the man he had once admired was being completely eviscerated before his very eyes. It was inconceivable to Chris that he could have survived.

Until that day on Rockfort Island when he heard the sound of Albert Wesker's voice…

__

'Long time, no see, Chris'

Even then, Chris had been certain he was hallucinating. But, the feel of Wesker's hand on his throat was no illusion. And the inhuman speed with which he moved defied comprehension. There was no way Umbrella was responsible for that. Chris was sure of it. Besides, he was trying to track down Alexia Ashford in an attempt to steal the T-Veronica virus from Umbrella. No. Chris was certain that someone else was responsible for the resurrection of Albert Wesker.

The question was who?

Chris decided to simplify his response. "The last time I saw Wesker, he was trying to steal one of Umbrella's viruses. I don't think he would do that if he were still working for them."

Dick continued to speculate. "Maybe he's switched sides, or something, since he's working for the same group as Leon. And, if those people really have been able to rescue Jill, what's the worst that could happen if she runs into Wesker?"

The trio exchanged glances, but remained silent. 

"Well?" Dick insisted, realizing they were all reluctant to say what they were thinking.

Barry finally spoke up. "Let's just hope she doesn't."

"That doesn't answer my question, Barry" Dick retorted.

Rebecca shot a quick look at Chris as she got up from her seat. "I need a drink of water." 

Dick looked at her, sympathetically. "I'm sorry if this is drudging up bad memories for all of you, but I want to know more about this guy."

Chris shook his head. "He's a sick, twisted bastard, Dick, and very, very dangerous. He helped Umbrella kill a lot of people. And believe me when I say that he enjoyed every minute of it. He tried to kill us, as well, but we managed to turn the tables on him. If he had a chance to take some revenge on any of us, he would."

"Especially us." Barry added, bitterly. 

Dick ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus", he muttered. "We have to find out where this HCF building is. It's our only chance of finding Jill. Who knows if we'll ever hear from Leon again." 

"I wouldn't voice thoughts like that when Claire and Sherry are around" Chris warned. "They're both very attached to him. And after what happened to Claire, I don't know if she could take someone else dying on her."

Barry sighed. "Let's not think the worst yet, people."

Chris nodded and glanced at Dick. "Barry's right. We'll find a lead tomorrow. I'm sure of it."

Dick acknowledged the young man's attempt at optimism with a quick nod. He knew Chris Redfield had some strong feelings for his daughter. He also knew that the two of them had been through hell together and being in situations like that had a way of forming the tightest of bonds. It was certainly obvious how much Rebecca cared about Jill, almost like a big sister. Something his daughter had never experienced as an only child. The one he had the most trouble reading was Barry. The man was very protective of Jill that much was certain. But, there was something else there, as well. If Dick didn't know better, he would say it was guilt. He had almost come right out and asked the man once, but then decided against it. The most important thing to Dick Valentine was finding his daughter, and he knew that was their top priority, as well. He hadn't known any of these people for very long, but their loyalty to Jill was without question. Even Kennedy seemed willing to stick his neck out for her.

Which left one unanswered question in Dick's mind. What happened to Oliviera?

"Has anyone heard from Carlos?" he asked. The others shook their heads.

"I don't get that guy", Barry muttered. "If he was so concerned about Jill, why the hell did he run off when we could have used him."

"I'm sure he's doing whatever he can, Barry" Rebecca defended.

"Yeah, well, Barry's right" Chris countered. "We could have really used the extra body. Who knows what we might run up against." He glanced at his watch. "I guess Claire must have sacked out after putting Sherry to bed." He smiled to himself, thinking about how the young girl brought out the 'mother hen' in his sister. "Why don't we all follow her example." 

Rebecca walked to the door, then turned to face the rest of the group. She wanted to say something reassuring, but couldn't seem to find the right words, so she opted for something simpler. "Good night, everyone." She heard the obligatory mumbles of affirmation and headed to her room.

***

Sherry turned her head when she heard the familiar noise. The figure lying beside her was moving restlessly, soft whimpering sounds growing in intensity. The young girl was becoming accustomed to the late night disturbances. She reached a hand out and gently stroked the other person's forehead, trying to offer comfort.

"Ssshh, it's all right, Claire" she whispered, using a feather light touch to stroke the older woman's furrowed brow. Even in the dark, she could see the look of distress on her friend's face. 

"…almost", Claire mumbled, as her hands gripped the sheets, bunching them up in her fists.

Sherry spoke softly. "Claire, wake up."

The brunette's eyes were squeezed shut as she continued to twist and turn, murmuring incoherently. "…nnn…wha…nnnmmm…go…go…fas…oh" Claire's voice was getting louder.

Sherry leaned up on her elbow and gripped Claire's shoulder, giving it a firm shake. "Claire, come on, wake up."

Claire began to thrash about as Sherry called her name repeatedly, but the nightmare had her firmly in its grip. 

The door opened as Rebecca entered the room in a hurry. She quickly closed the door behind her, not bothering to turn on a light. "Another bad one?"

Sherry shook her head, vigorously. "Yes, and I can't wake her up." The girl's voice began to rise in panic. "I've never not been able to wake her up."

Rebecca knelt down beside the bed and put her hands on either side of Claire's head. She could feel the moisture on the woman's cheeks as she turned her face toward her. "Claire!" 

Claire's eyes shot open. "OH GOD!" she cried out, as she grabbed Rebecca's arms and started to struggle. 

The young medic held her firmly, calling her name again. "Claire!" She gave the woman a firm shake as she waited for her voice to penetrate Claire's senses. 

After several seconds, Claire's struggling ceased, as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. She stared at Rebecca, the recognition finally dawning. Her facial features began to twist as she tried to stop her emotions from spilling forth.

Rebecca spoke softly "It was just a bad dream. Are you okay?"

Claire nodded, not trusting her voice at that moment. She sat up as Rebecca let go of her. She felt a smaller hand touch her left shoulder. She reached up and put her hand over it, giving Sherry a reassuring pat. "I'm alright." She got up from the bed and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Sherry turned to look at Rebecca "That was the worst one yet. Does she ever tell you what they're about?"

"No." Rebecca responded. "You?"

"No." Sherry answered. "But, I'm sure it must be about the Antarctic." The young girl sighed, heavily. "I don't understand why she won't talk about what happened. Maybe if she did, the nightmares would go away. It isn't good to keep things bottled up the way she does."

"I agree."

"Maybe we should try to get her to open up about it." Sherry suggested.

"I think that's a good idea, Sherry" Rebecca answered. "But, I think I'll leave that up to you. I haven't known Claire very long and it's unlikely she would talk to me." 

Sherry looked thoughtful. "I haven't known Claire that long either, now that you mention it, but it seems like I've known her forever." She turned away from Rebecca to stare at the bathroom door. "I've never been as close to anyone as I am to Claire…not even my parents. If she hadn't found me when she did…" the young girl's voice trailed off.

Rebecca reached a hand out and gave Sherry's shoulder a firm squeeze. "We were both lucky to find a helping hand."

Sherry looked up at Rebecca and smiled. "Redfields to the rescue, right?"

The young woman laughed softly as she ruffled the girl's hair. "Right."

***

"…Chris…"

Carlos looked down at Jill, concern etched on his face. "What was that, Jill?" He held her tighter as the van rocked wildly over the uneven terrain. He had been holding her in his lap since they left Umbrella's complex. He thought he heard her say something, which would have been the first sign of life she had shown since they left. He reached a hand up and wiped a few stray hairs away from her forehead. Her skin was still hot to the touch, although she was no longer perspiring. That was not a good sign.

"How's she doing?"

Carlos glanced over at Larry, who was sitting across from him.

"Not to good" he muttered. "When the hell are we gonna get to the doctor?" 

Larry poked his head out toward the driver's seat, exchanging a few brief words with the man behind the wheel. "We're almost there. Don't worry, they'll be ready."

Carlos took little comfort from his friend's words. Even when they got her to a doctor, he knew there might be no chance to save Jill if she had been infected with a virus. The fact that she dodged a bullet before had been a stroke of pure luck, and Carlos knew it. 

He watched her face for any indication that she might be awake. Occasionally, her eyes would flutter, as an expression of pain flashed across her features. He continued to speak to her in soft tones, hoping that, maybe, she could hear him and know she was safe. 

The van came to an abrupt stop. The back doors flew open as people began to climb out. Larry stood up, needing to stay bent over a bit so he wouldn't hit his head on the roof. He shot a quick look toward the open doors before turning back to speak to Carlos.

"You need a hand?" he asked.

Carlos tightened his grip on Jill, possessively. "No, thanks." He made his way to the door and climbed down, carefully, still holding on to his friend. Three people appeared from the side pushing a stretcher. 

"Put her down, gently" a man's voice commanded. 

Carlos hesitated, looking around for the first time. "Where the hell are we?"

Larry stepped up behind him. "Carlos, do as the doctor says. Your friend here needs help."

Carlos frowned. "Where's the hospital?" It was too dark to make out much of his surroundings, but there didn't appear to be any ambulance. There were too many people around him, blocking his line of vision. He spun around to look at Larry, and found himself looking down the barrel of a gun.

Larry's expression was grim. "I have a package to deliver, Carlos. And I need her healthy. Now, be a good boy and put her down on the stretcher." 

The former mercenary took an involuntary step backwards and felt the press of another weapon against his back.

"You fucking bastard!" he snarled.

Larry's expression was unchanged. "It's nothing personal, Carlos. It's just business. If I don't deliver the goods, I don't get paid."

"Where the hell are we?"

Larry took a step closer. "Put the girl down, first."

Carlos knew he didn't have any choice. He kept his eyes on Larry as he stepped toward the stretcher, carefully putting his friend down. Several people began moving about, strapping Jill down as Carlos fumed. His eyes wandered toward the interior of the van, seeing his rifle resting underneath the bench. 

One of the men hovering over Jill spoke up. "We need to start an I.V. right away. She's severely dehydrated."

Larry nodded. "Go."

The trio began pushing the stretcher away and Carlos, instinctively, ran toward them. As he moved away from the van doors, he was able to get a better view of their location.

They were standing on an airport runway. 

Several figures intercepted him as he tried to follow Jill. He threw a punch, knocking one man to the ground. Two other men jumped on him from behind and wrestled him to the ground. His arms were pulled back, painfully, as a gun muzzle pressed against his cheek.

He heard Larry's voice. "Don't be stupid, man. Nobody is gonna hurt your friend, so just calm down."

"Fuck you." Carlos spat.

Larry sighed. "Carlos, you always were a stupid little boy." He stood up and holstered his gun. "Get him up." Carlos was pulled, roughly, to his feet. "Now, are you gonna hear me out?" 

"You're a back-stabbing pig, you know that?" Carlos shook off the men's arms.

Larry grinned. "Takes one to know one."

"What 's your latest line of bullshit?" 

"Alright, Carlos. First of all, I didn't know the person I was hired to find was your friend, okay?"

Carlos snorted. "Like that would have made any difference, right?"

"Probably not. But, I might have told you about it up front."

"Right." 

Larry shook his head. "Okay, maybe not" he conceded. "Secondly, we did get your friend away from Umbrella. That is what you wanted."

Carlos took a step forward. "Only so you could give her to someone else." He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"True. But it was a rescue mission, Carlos. Somebody's paying an awful lot of money to save your friend's ass, and I would think you'd be grateful." 

"Who's paying you?" Carlos asked.

"HCF Enterprises" Larry answered. 

Carlos was confused. "I've never heard of them. What do they want with Jill?"

"Couldn't tell ya. But, those doctors will take good care of her, don't you worry."

"Where are they taking her?"

"Don't know that, either. My guess would be the West Coast. That's where the company is located." Larry walked away from the van, motioning for Carlos to follow him. He pointed to a small Lear jet parked on the runway. "Like I said, someone is forking out a lot of dough to save that girl. Maybe she has a friend there you don't know about."

Carlos was not convinced. "A friend would get her to a hospital."

Larry smirked. "So she could end up back with your pals at Umbrella? That wouldn't be too smart. Besides, it looked to me like she was in pretty good hands."

Carlos stared, intently, at the plane. "I need to go with her."

Larry smiled, clapping the young man on the shoulder. "I knew you'd say that."

Carlos looked at the man in surprise. "Are you telling me I can go?"

Larry's expression turned serious. "Yes. But, if you fuck this deal up, you are a dead man."

Carlos grinned. "I already am, remember?" He turned and ran toward the plane.

Larry watched his friend's retreating back. "Yeah…" he said, softly. "I remember."

***

Albert Wesker picked up his phone. "Hello?"

"Your package is in the mail."

He smiled. "Wonderful. I can hardly wait to talk over old times."

The voice on the other line sighed, wistfully. "Don't tell me you're throwing me over for someone else?"

Wesker laughed. "Hardly. She's not exactly my type. Too good."

The voice laughed, seductively. "Too bad."

"I miss you."

"How much?"

Wesker leaned back in his chair. "I want you to come out here."

"What's in it for me?"

"I have a surprise for you."

"Really? Well, how could I say no to an invitation like that."

Wesker held up a photograph. "I'm hoping you can't."

The voice whispered, huskily. "I always was a sucker for blondes." 

Wesker grinned, still staring at the image of Claire Redfield. "How do you feel about brunettes?"

***

__

Finally! This chapter was a tough one to get through. I'm sure everybody has had a hard time the last two weeks. I think getting back to writing has been a good distraction for me. I hope this story provides a bit of a distraction for the rest of you, as well. Peace, everyone. 


	12. ...And into the Pool

Sacrifices ****

Sacrifices

Chapter 12: …And into the Pool 

Leon pushed his way through a group of people standing on the platform as he rushed to reach the open dock door. It was nearly four in the morning when Ellen had come to his room to tell him of Jill's arrival. Although he had been attempting to sleep, he had spent almost the entire night staring at the ceiling. 

A hand grabbed him by the arm as he approached the door. He spun around, quickly, ready to knock down the person trying to impede his progress. 

"Whoa, Kennedy!" Ellen took a defensive step back while bringing her hands up in front of her. "I come in peace." 

"Sorry", Leon muttered, unclenching his fist. "I'm a little edgy."

Ellen relaxed a bit. "A little?"

"Yeah, well, if you hadn't slept in almost three days…" Leon's voice trailed off as he turned to watch the truck back up to the dock. "What's Jill's condition?" 

"Severe dehydration. Blood pressure is extremely high, apparently the result of some toxins present in the bloodstream--"

"Toxins?" Leon interrupted. "What kind of toxins?"

"We don't know, yet. The lab will need to run some tests."

"Is she conscious?" 

"No." Ellen cast a glance over to the approaching medical team. 

Leon followed her gaze. "Who are they?"

"They are the group of doctors who will be taking care of your friend."

"Shouldn't she be in a hospital?" Leon questioned.

"We couldn't take the risk. Besides, she'll get excellent medical care here. If there's any sign of a viral agent at work, our people will be her best chance for survival." Ellen's pager began to beep. She pulled it from her pocket with an annoyed expression and looked at the display. "Excuse me for a moment."

Leon watched Ellen as she walked across the platform and disappeared through the door. He turned his attention back to the truck. The rear doors opened and several people emerged pushing a stretcher onto the dock. He moved closer to get a look as the medical team converged on the unconscious figure.

A flurry of activity erupted as both groups began to exchange information. Leon peered over the shoulder of one of the doctors, trying to get a clearer view. He caught a brief glimpse of the young woman lying so still amidst the chaos. 

It was Jill Valentine.

Leon breathed a sigh of relief. At the very least, they had managed to get her away from Umbrella. He hoped it wasn't too late to repair whatever damage had been done to her.

A brief commotion inside the back of the truck suddenly caught Leon's attention.

"Get the hell out of my way!" 

A man emerged from the truck, practically knocking over one of the doctors in the process. "I already told you people…where she goes, I go!" 

Leon's eyes widened in surprise. "Carlos?"

Carlos looked to his right, immediately catching sight of the other man. "Leon?"

"How the hell did you get here?" Leon asked, incredulously. 

"I could ask you the same, but I'm guessing you're the one responsible for this little rescue mission", Carlos responded.

"Sort of…" Leon backed away as the medical team began to push the stretcher through the small crowd. They moved briskly, heading towards an open elevator at the rear of the platform. Leon moved to cut them off.

Carlos was already a few steps ahead of Leon as he reached a hand out to grab one of the medics by his shoulder. "I'm coming with you."

The medic turned to face him. "Sorry, but we're taking her to a quarantined environment. Authorized personnel only." He started pushing the stretcher again.

Leon blocked the elevator entrance and flashed his I.D. card. "What floor are you heading down to?"

Another man spoke up "Level 8…if you'll move."

"Fine. We'll be down shortly." Leon stepped to the side, allowing everyone to get on to the elevator.

"Hey, wait a minute…" Carlos started.

Leon put a hand up to silence him. "Let them do their job, Carlos. Jill's health is the top priority here, right?"

Carlos stared at him for a moment. "Right" he answered, slowly. "But, I still want to stay with her in case she wakes up, you know?" 

Leon nodded. "I know." He watched the elevator doors close. "Why don't we head down another way. Follow me." 

As they made their way back toward the offices, Leon turned to Carlos. "How did you get here, anyway?"

"Your company hired an old teammate of mine to get into Umbrella", Carlos explained. "I just happened to be there when it all went down."

"Quite a coincidence."

Carlos shrugged. "I suppose so. Speaking of coincidence…"

Leon shot the other man a look. "I've been working for these people for a few months, now. It isn't something I'm supposed to talk about with anyone. I honestly didn't even know if they would be able to help Jill, but the situation was pretty desperate, so I took a chance."

"Looks like they came through", Carlos acknowledged.

The two men reached the elevator. Leon slid his ID card through an electronic reader on the wall. The display light turned green. He reached a hand out to press a button as he turned back to Carlos with a troubled expression. 

"Yeah, they did", he agreed. "Still, I can't help--"

"Leon!"

Both men turned at the sound of Ellen's voice.

She came up to them and held a hand out to Carlos. "You must be the stowaway."

Carlos eyed her with suspicion, while Leon found himself grinning. 

"Ellen Ross, this is--"

"Miguel. Miguel Guerra…at your service", Carlos interrupted, giving Ellen a winning smile. He reached out and shook the young woman's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ellen." He held her hand for a few more seconds before releasing it.

Leon rolled his eyes and hit the elevator button. "Oh, brother" he muttered, softly.

Ellen smiled at Carlos before turning her attention to Leon. "Where are you going?"

"Miguel and I are going to see Jill." Leon responded, casting a glance at Carlos.

"She's being brought to quarantine, Leon."

He looked at her. "So?"

"So, that area is off limits to you", she reminded him.

Carlos spoke up. "I need to see her."

Ellen's expression remained passive. "I'm sorry, Mr. Guerra, but you are not allowed. In fact, you have no authority to even be here."

"He's with me", Leon responded. "I can vouch for him."

The redhead sighed. "You know the rules."

"Ellen…" Leon warned.

"It will have to wait" she stated, firmly. "Right now, you have other business to attend to."

"What other business?" Leon questioned. 

"Mr. Wallace would like to see you in his office, right away."

"Doesn't that guy sleep?" Leon complained.

Ellen turned her gaze back to Carlos. "He's looking forward to meeting you, as well."

Carlos could feel his anger rising. "I don't give a shit what this Wallace guy wants. My friend is seriously ill and my priority is to be with her."

"This Wallace guy, as you refer to him, is the one responsible for rescuing your friend, Mr. Guerra." Her tone was cool. "You would do well to remember that."

"I do." 

"Then perhaps you should honor his request. Miss Valentine will have to remain isolated for at least twenty-four hours, so you will not be able to see her until then. If her condition changes, I'll notify you immediately." 

Carlos remained silent, unsure of what to do. 

"We are not the villains here, I assure you." 

Leon put a hand on Carlos' shoulder, which the man promptly shrugged off.

"Um…why don't we just go and see him", Leon relented. "He might even be able to give us more details about Jill's condition." 

Carlos took a deep breath and released it in a huff. "Fine."

Leon started down the corridor with a reluctant Carlos following close behind.

As Ellen watched them disappear around the corner, the elevator doors opened behind her. She stepped inside and pressed a button, deciding it was time to pay a visit to the increasingly popular Jill Valentine.

***

Claire stepped out onto the patio, quietly sliding the door closed behind her. The morning sky was just beginning to brighten, slowly diminishing the gray, hazy atmosphere. A heavy cloud of moisture still hung in the air, promising another humid day.

She spotted a figure sitting in a chair by the edge of the pool. The person was facing away from her, seemingly unaware of her presence as she came up behind them.

"Chris?" She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

Chris covered her hand with his own and bent his head back to look up at her. 

"Good Morning, Claire." He smiled at her. "Your up bright and early."

Claire came around from behind and sat down next to him. "I couldn't sleep."

Chris yawned. "Me neither. Barry snores."

Claire answered him with a yawn of her own. "You should try turning him over onto his side. I've heard that works."

"I've tried that," Chris admitted. "But, once, I accidentally rolled him off his bed. He told me if I ever did that again he'd have my guts for garters. Believe me when I tell you, the last thing you ever want to do in this life is piss off Barry Burton at three in the morning." 

Claire laughed, softly. "Teddy bear by day, grizzly bear by night, huh?"

"You said it."

The two siblings lapsed into a comfortable silence. As they sat quietly, a hotel worker emerged from a cabana on the opposite side of the pool and began to clean it in preparation for the days' guests. 

"Hey, brother?" 

"Hmm?"

"What's going on between you and Jill?"

Chris looked over at her. "What's going on between you and Leon?"

"Nothing", she answered. "We haven't really had any time together."

"Ditto."

"You seemed pretty chummy to me", Claire pressed.

"We are."

The brunette sighed, loudly. "You're being evasive."

"You're being nosy."

"Just checking in. You know how you can get…all dark and brooding. I just hope Jill knows what she's in for, that's all."

Chris flashed a look of annoyance. "Claire…"

Claire smiled at him. "Yes, big brother?"

A grin appeared on his face. "I've really missed having you around."

"Ditto."

Chris stood up and held a hand out to her. "How about we try and find some coffee in this joint, little sister?"

Claire swiped his hand away and stood up. "Sounds good to me." She started to edge her way around the pool.

Chris trailed behind, almost knocking her over when she suddenly stopped. He saw a frown on her face. "What's wrong?"

"I thought I saw something…in the water." 

Chris followed her gaze as he leaned closer. "Like what?"

"A sucker!" she shouted, pushing him into the pool. 

Chris hit the water with a huge splash. He twisted around to get his bearings, breaking the surface in a fit of coughs and gags. He looked up to find his sister sitting on the ground, laughing hysterically.

"Oh…you… think that's…funny?" he sputtered in between coughs.

Claire just waved a hand at him, unable to respond as she continued to laugh.

Chris put his hands on the cement ledge and began to hoist himself out of the water. "You are in big trouble."

Claire jumped up and ran across the patio. "Gotta catch me first, gramps!" she called back.

He could hear the slider open as Claire went inside, the sound of her laughter fading as she disappeared into the hotel. He climbed out of the water and lay on his back with his eyes closed. 

A shadow loomed over him. Chris looked up to see the hotel worker grinning down at him.

"I can't believe you fell for that." 

"Don't you have some work to do?" Chris shot back. The man continued to chuckle to himself as he walked away. Chris sat up and started unlacing his boots. "I can't believe I fell for that", he muttered to himself.

As he sat there wringing out his socks, he began to laugh. 

***

"How could this have happened!"

A set of weary eyes looked up at the man as he continued to pace.

"I have no idea." The doctor winced as she reapplied the ice pack to the back of her head. "They forced their way in at gunpoint. There was nothing I could do."

"I planned this right down to the smallest detail. There should have been more than enough security people on duty." The blonde man slammed his fist down onto the empty gurney. 

"Perhaps you should be discussing this with the head of security", the doctor suggested. 

The man regarded her with a look of contempt. "Well, perhaps if you had been more effective, we would have gotten the information we needed and Valentine would now be dead."

"She still might be" the doctor replied, cryptically.

"What do you mean?"

"I may have, inadvertently, given her an overdose of medication." The doctor seemed pleased with herself. "Unless those thugs were able to get her immediate medical attention, I doubt she would have lasted very long."

The man began to straighten his tie. "I wish I could be certain of that, Doctor. Unfortunately, this little group of troublemakers always seem to land on their feet." He put his suit coat on and buttoned it.

"Are you going to see the president, now?" the doctor asked.

"Yes…and I'm sure she'll be less than pleased." He started toward the door.

"Mr. Lewis?"

Gabriel Lewis turned in the doorway to look back at Doctor Louise Purcell. For the first time since they had met, he could see genuine fear in her eyes. 

"Yes?" he responded.

The woman's face was deathly pale. "You will be sure to tell her I did my best, won't you?" 

"Of course, Doctor." Gabriel turned and walked out of the room.

***

The woman leaned back in her chair, stretching her long legs across the corner of her desk. She held the phone to her ear as she stared at her computer screen.

"My plane leaves in two hours" she spoke, softly. 

"Wonderful…just in time for lunch", the caller replied.

The voice drifting through the phone caused a slight shiver to run down her spine. It had been too long since they had seen each other. She was looking forward to making up for lost time. 

"What did you have in mind?" she asked.

"I thought we might order in."

She smiled. "You have an insatiable appetite, Albert."

"Thanks to you, my dear" Wesker replied. "Did you see the photo?"

The woman leaned forward in her chair and focused her ice blue eyes on the computer screen. "Yes. I can hardly believe it. I never thought she would turn up so quickly."

"Well, I suppose we have Leon Kennedy to thank for that", Wesker commented. "They appear to be connected through the Berkin's daughter, although I don't know how that came to be. But, it doesn't really matter now, does it?"

"No, it doesn't", she agreed. "So long as I can get my hands on Claire Redfield, I don't care who else might be in the way. She will be held accountable for what she did."

"I love it when you're ruthless."

"I want her to pay."

"Don't worry, love. We'll make them all pay."

There was a knock at the door.

"I have to go, Albert" she said.

"I'll see you soon", he replied.

She said a quick goodbye and hung up the phone. "Come in", she called out.

The door opened to reveal Gabriel Lewis.

"May I have a word with you?" he asked.

The woman nodded. "Certainly. Although I gather from the expression on your face that this isn't good news."

"No, it isn't" he admitted. "In fact, it's very bad."

The woman's gaze was like stone. "Close the door."

"Yes, Miss Ashford."

***

__

I know what you're thinking. You'll just have to wait for the explanation until the next chapter…or the chapter after that. Anyway, I know this one was a bit disjointed, but I needed to bring a few more people into the mix. And, hey, can't Claire and Chris have a little fun? Well, Claire anyway. Sorry this chapter took so long. Life has been very hectic, lately. Someone suggested that I should get a beta reader. I'm willing to try anything once so if anyone is interested, please send me an email. Later, folks.


	13. Divide and Conquer

Sacrifices ****

Sacrifices

Chapter 13: Divide and Conquer

Ellen entered the hallway outside of the medical lab, pausing to look through the observation window. She could see several people in white coats hovering over a computer in the corner; each one taking turns pointing out information on the monitor. On the opposite side of the room, two doctors were engaged in an intense conversation.

Her eyes wandered to the far right side of the room. Jill Valentine was lying on a hospital bed with an array of wires and tubes attached to her body. An oxygen mask obscured most of her face from view, but it appeared that she was still unconscious. 

One of the doctors looked up and noticed Ellen standing out in the hall. He made a gesture with his hand, indicating he would come outside. After another moment of conversation, he came through the double doors to greet her.

"Good Morning, Miss Ross." The doctor removed his glasses and rubbed his weary eyes with his thumb and forefinger. 

"Good Morning, Doctor Lessing", she responded. "How's the patient?"

He put his glasses back on as he took a momentary look through the glass. "All in all, she's lucky to be alive."

"Can you tell me what they did to her?" Ellen asked. 

"Well, we didn't find any viral agent present in her bloodstream. However, there was some trace amounts of several drugs. "

"What kind of drugs?"

The doctor sighed. "Well, from the preliminary tests we've performed so far, it looks like she was given some form of muscle stimulants and relaxants." 

"That's a rather odd combination?" Ellen looked puzzled. "Any idea what the purpose would be?"

"At this point, I could only speculate. We still have some other tests we need to run."

"Indulge me."

Doctor Lessing shook his head. "Well…" he started, "keeping in mind the people we're dealing with, of course…"

Ellen nodded. "Of course."

The doctor continued "If you gave a large enough dosage of the stimulant to a perfectly healthy person, mixed in with one or two other drugs I can think of, it would likely cause severe muscle spasms."

"And what about the relaxant?" 

"It could be used to counteract the effects of the stimulant. I suppose, if it were administered in the right way, it could stop the symptoms rather quickly." 

"A very unique way to torture someone", Ellen commented. 

"I agree." The doctor held up some notes he was holding in his hand and pointed a finger at them. "Whoever came up with this was a very twisted individual."

"A doctor, maybe?" Ellen suggested.

Doctor Lessing narrowed his eyes at the woman. "Perhaps", he conceded. "But, they must have been a sadist."

Ellen smirked. "I thought all doctors were sadists."

"That's d_entists_", the doctor corrected. 

"Has she regained consciousness?"

"She started to come around a few moments ago, but we sedated her, so she's sleeping now."

Ellen stared at him. "Why did you sedate her? Wouldn't it make things a lot easier if she could tell you what happened?"

Doctor Lessing shifted, uncomfortably. "Well…of course. But, Mr. Wallace was very specific in his instructions."

The redhead quirked an eyebrow. "Exactly what were his instructions, Doctor?"

"Perhaps you should be discussing this with him--"

"I'm asking you" she interrupted. She watched the doctor's expression, knowing he was debating with himself about how much to reveal.

"We were told to treat her as best we could and to keep her isolated and sedated" he responded.

"Did he give you a reason for this?"

Doctor Lessing flashed a look of impatience. "No, and I certainly was not about to ask him for one." He turned and walked back to the lab doors, pausing to look at Ellen just before he entered. "If you're as smart as I think you are, Miss Ross, you won't question him, either." He disappeared through the doors.

The young woman shifted her gaze back to the window. There was definitely more going on here than she had been told. It was obvious that Wallace was trying to keep Leon's friend quiet. 

The question was…why?

***

"I've got something!" Rebecca shouted as she waved a hand to Chris from the opposite side of the street.

Chris had just emerged from the office of another trucking company. The entire group had been out all morning driving from one place to another in the hopes of finding someone who could give them the location of HCF Enterprises. After his tenth time leaving empty-handed, he was getting very frustrated. 

He saw the petite brunette waving frantically as he came down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he spotted Barry heading toward the van in the parking lot. 

"Barry!" Chris called out. He pointed his finger in Rebecca's direction when Barry looked his way. 

Rebecca ran across the street towards Chris as Barry made his way over to the two of them. She stopped at the curb, taking a moment to catch her breath.

"What did you find out?" Chris asked.

Rebecca held up a piece of paper. "I talked to a guy who told me he made a delivery to this place last week." She paused as Chris took the paper and read the information. "It was a truckload of medical supplies and he dropped them at a warehouse on the eastside. He said the name sounded right, but if we wanted to be sure, we'd have to talk to his dispatcher."

Barry had come up behind Chris and was now reading over his shoulder. "Screw that!" he interjected. "This place is only a few miles away. I say let's go check it out, now."

"I'm with Barry", Chris agreed. "I'm sick of talking. I need to do something." 

"Do what?" Claire asked. The three looked over to see Claire, Sherry and Dick walking toward them. They had also been asking around, but it was obvious from the look on Dick's face that they had been unsuccessful.

"Rebecca may have found a lead" Chris answered. "The place isn't far from here."

"Great, let's go." Dick said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the van. 

Chris hesitated. "Can I have a word?" he asked, looking over at Claire. The two siblings stepped away from the rest of the group.

Claire stared at Chris with defiance. "I know what this is about, and you can forget it."

"Claire…" Chris started.

"NO!" She pointed a finger at him. "I'm not getting left behind, again!"

"I'm not leaving you behind" 

"Bullshit!" she shouted. "That's what you always do. You're always trying to protect me, like I'm a child. When you first got mixed up in this whole mess, you didn't even bother to tell me. You just took off, leaving some cryptic message on my answering machine, for Christ's sake!" 

Chris stared at her. "What was I supposed to do? Ask you to take a break from school to come and help me shoot some zombies?" he replied, sarcastically. 

Her gaze was intense. "You could have told me something…anything. Instead, I was left wondering whether you were dead or alive."

Chris gripped her by the arms. "Claire, we've already been through this. I know I should have told you what was happening. I should have realized that you'd come looking for me. Everything that you went through was my fault…"

"No…" she interrupted. "That's not true."

"Yes, it is" he insisted. "I was so busy waging my own war against Umbrella that I couldn't see how I was letting other people down."

"Chris, that's not what I meant…" 

"Listen to me for a minute." His tone was soft, but commanding. "When this whole nightmare began, I thought my teammates and I could handle it. We were all highly trained…" He paused, exhaling loudly. "But, nothing could have prepared us for what we encountered. One by one, we were being slaughtered, Claire. A couple of my closest friends died in that first mission. In ways so horrible I can't even bear to think about it."

"I know what you mean" she replied, looking down at the ground.

Chris waited until his sister turned her gaze back to him. "I know you do. And I'm sorry for disappearing on you. But, truthfully, I didn't really know what I was doing. None of us did. We were all running in different directions, determined to get Umbrella for what they'd done, wanting to keep our families safe. I just didn't want you to become involved in any of this." He released her arms and stood quietly for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. 

"I know that you can handle yourself, Claire." he continued. "But, as good as you are…you are not a trained soldier." Claire opened her mouth to protest, but Chris held a hand up to stop her. "This isn't a raid on some Umbrella facility. We're not going in with guns blazing. Hell, we don't even know what we're gonna find when we get there. This is a rescue mission, pure and simple. And that's one of the things the S.T.A.R.S. do best."

Claire folded her arms across her chest. She wanted to argue with him, but she knew he had a point. Her eyes wandered toward Sherry. 

Chris could see she was looking at the young girl. "She needs someone to look out for her", he commented.

Claire looked back at him. "Just like me, huh?"

Chris smiled. "Not anymore." 

The younger Redfield suddenly felt a tug of worry. "What about Dick?" she asked.

"Nothing I could say will keep him away. We'll just have to make sure he doesn't do anything crazy."

"Unlike someone else I know" she remarked.

"I'll do whatever it takes."

"I know." This time Claire smiled at him. "That's why I'm still around."

"We better get going." Chris started to walk back to the group when he felt Claire's hand on his arm. He turned to her, expectantly.

"You better come back in one piece," she said, firmly.

Chris gave her a crooked grin. "That's the plan."

*** 

Leon watched as Carlos continued to pace back and forth. "You're gonna wear a hole in the rug, you know." 

The young mercenary stopped in his tracks and looked at the floor. "It's tiled."

"Just an expression" Leon mumbled, rolling his eyes. "Why don't you sit down?"

"I'm tired of sitting, and I'm tired of waiting." Carlos threw his arms up in the air. "I don't give a shit what this guy did for Jill, I'm outta here." Just as Carlos reached the door it swung open. He took a step back in surprise.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." The man stood in the doorway, blocking Carlos' exit.

Leon glanced up at Wesker, but remained seated. "Do you know your floor has two hundred and twenty tiles?"

Wesker looked at him, blankly. "Again, I apologize." He turned to Carlos and held a hand out to him. "Andrew Wallace. How do you do?" 

"I do just fine, thanks." Carlos didn't offer his hand. "I'd like to pay my friend a visit now, if you wouldn't mind getting out of the way."

Wesker didn't move. "Why don't you have a seat, Mr. Oliviera."

Carlos looked taken aback. "The name's Guerra," he corrected.

Wesker grinned at him. "I make it my business to know who gets on one of my planes." He gestured to an empty chair next to Leon. "Now, why don't you sit down. I assure you that your friend is in good hands."

Carlos glared at him for a moment before finally giving in and taking a seat. He shot a look at Leon, who could only shrug his shoulders. 

Wesker stepped in and closed the door, stopping to pour himself some coffee before taking a seat. He looked across his desk at the two men, noticing the differences between them. While Leon sat calmly, waiting for Wesker to make the first move, Carlos Oliviera could barely sit still. He was leaning over the desk as his fingers drummed the surface, almost imperceptibly. But, few things went unnoticed by Albert Wesker. 

"What's going on with Jill?" Carlos blurted out.

Wesker smiled to himself. Oliviera was an impatient man. That was a good thing. 

"The doctor's are still running tests, but she seems to be doing very well", he answered. "There's no sign of any virus."

Carlos released the breath he had been holding. "Has she woken up, yet?"

"No," Wesker replied shaking his head. "But, the doctors don't think there's cause for concern. She's been through a terrible ordeal. Her body needs rest." 

"What happened to her?" Leon asked.

"We're not certain." Wesker leaned back and folded his muscular arms across his chest. "The doctors tell me she was probably tortured." He watched with amusement as both men visibly flinched.

"Bastards." Carlos muttered under his breath. He slumped back in his chair and stared at the floor.

Leon's expression darkened. "When can we see her?"

"As soon as the doctors give me the okay, which should be within a few hours", Wesker lied. He had no intention of letting the two men see Jill. That privilege belonged to him, and he could hardly wait. "In the meantime, however, something's come up that needs your attention."

Carlos narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "_Our_ attention?" he questioned.

Wesker smiled. "It's a simple matter, really." He focused on Carlos. "Since we flew you all the way across the country to be with your friend, I thought you might want to show your appreciation."

"I don't work for you" Carlos stated, flatly.

"No…" Wesker agreed. "But you did work for the U.B.C.S., and that gave you some special skills that we are in need of, at the moment."

"How do you know so much about me?" Carlos demanded. He suddenly found himself wishing that Larry were there so he could beat the crap out of him. His former teammate had obviously offered up some information to this man. 

"As I said before, I make it my business to know." 

"What is it you need us to do, exactly?" Leon questioned. 

Wesker pushed an envelope across the desk toward Leon. 

"I need you to pick something up for me."

***

"You're gonna wear a hole in that rug."

Claire stopped her pacing to look at Sherry seated on the couch, idly flipping television stations with a remote. "You're beginning to sound like Leon."

The young blonde smiled, obviously enjoying the comparison. "I'll take that as a compliment", she answered, smugly.

"I knew you would." Claire folded her arms across her chest and glanced at the program that Sherry had stopped at, trying to find anything to focus on, other than her own thoughts. 

Chris and the others had dropped her and Sherry off at the hotel before heading over to the warehouse. While Sherry had been relatively calm since they returned, Claire was about ready to jump out of her skin. Sitting and waiting were two of her least favorite things to do. She didn't have patience for it. Her mind kept conjuring up thoughts about what the others might be facing. 

The sound of the telephone ringing startled her. Claire leaned over and snatched up the receiver from the table. "Hello?" 

There was a momentary pause. "Miss Richards?"

"Yes?" Claire answered.

"This is Renee at the lobby desk. Someone left an envelope for you." 

"For me?" Claire asked. "Do you know who it's from?"

"The note on it says it's from someone named Kennedy."

Claire's heart skipped a beat. "I'll be right down." She hung up the phone and headed for the door.

Sherry glanced up at her, curiously. "What's going on?"

Claire barely gave the girl a second glance. "I just have to run down to the lobby for a second." She didn't want to say anything to Sherry until she had a chance to read whatever Leon had sent.

"Okay."

Claire bolted out the door and ran for the elevator. By the time she reached the first floor her nerves were jangling. She walked at a brisk pace through the hotel lobby. The room was bustling with activity. She looked around as her eyes sought out a woman working behind one of the desks. She could make out the nametag as she approached.

"Renee?"

A young woman of about twenty-five glanced up from her computer screen. She put on her standard helpful hotel smile. "Yes?"

"I'm Diane Richards. You said you had an envelope for me?" Claire drummed her fingers, nervously, as the desk clerk reached under the counter. Her hand emerged with a small, white envelope a second later and she handed it to Claire. 

"Here you go." The young woman smiled, but was already looking past Claire at the next person she could help. 

Claire stepped away from the desk and quickly tore the letter open. She unfolded the small piece of paper and read what was on it. Her eyes widened as she continued to stare at the words. It was a single sentence in bold, black letters.

****

You shouldn't have left Sherry alone.

As the meaning of the words began to sink in, Claire sprung into action. She bolted across the lobby towards the hallway. Several people turned to look at her as she pushed her way past a group waiting for the elevators. She spun around, nearly frantic as her eyes searched for the stairs. Finally spotting a sign in the corner, she threw the door open and ran as fast as her legs would carry her.

Her only thought as she climbed the stairwell was reaching Sherry. The girl was helpless without her and Claire knew she should never have left her…even for a moment. She could only pray that Sherry wasn't paying the price for her carelessness. 

Claire pushed the door open and ran down the corridor. The first thing she noticed as she approached her room was that the door was slightly ajar. She slowed her pace as she moved closer and reached back to remove the gun tucked in her belt. She took several deep breaths as she came to stand in front of the door. 

Peering in through the crack she couldn't see any movement. With the softest touch, she slowly pushed the door open. There was no sound coming from inside. Claire could recall when she left that the TV was playing a bit loudly. Now, there was absolute silence.

She stepped across the threshold, moving as quietly as possible. As if confirming what she already knew, the TV was now off. Slowly, she continued on further, trying to keep her eyes on everything. 

"Sherry?" she whispered as she walked through the room. There was no response. Claire walked toward the kitchenette, trying to peer around the corner of the 'L' shaped room. The small dinette set was visible as she continued forward, the gun held out before her.

There were two figures seated at the opposite end of the table. The young brunette froze as she took in the sight before her.

"Hello, Claire."

The woman sitting in the chair smiled at Claire as she looked down at the face of the young girl seated in her lap. Sherry's eyes were closed and her small form remained motionless. The tip of a hypodermic needle rested against her throat.

Claire stared in disbelief. The gun was still raised as her hands began to shake. Her mind screamed at her that what she was looking at had to be an illusion. Her voice could only whisper a single word.

"Alexia."

***

__

Well, that took a while, didn't it? Sorry, but life has been very hectic, lately. I'm already working on the next chapter (lots going on in that one), so I'll try to post it asap. I'm still searching for a beta-reader, so please drop me a line. Later, folks. 


	14. Double Jeopardy

****

Sacrifices

Chapter 14: Double Jeopardy

"That's not happiness to see me, is it?" Alexia rested her cheek on the top of Sherry's head as her hand continued to hold the needle at the young girl's throat. 

Claire gripped the gun tighter, taking cautious steps towards the table. "What did you do to her?" she demanded as she continued to move closer to the pair. 

Alexia looked down at the unconscious child. "Just a little chloroform. Nothing to be concerned about," She turned her ice blue eyes on Claire. "…Yet."

Claire's eyes burned with hatred. "Sherry's just a child. Leave her out of this."

Alexia sighed, impatiently. "I'm afraid I can't do that. Right now, she's the only thing keeping you from doing something foolish." She adjusted the needle, slightly. "Now, I want you to put that gun on the counter and sit down."

The brunette shook her head. "No way. You put the needle down, first."

"In the time it would take you to pull that trigger, I could press the plunger," Alexia commented, matter of factly. "I would be dead, and so would your little friend." A tense silence fell between the two women as they continued to stare at each other. Alexia finally broke it, arching her eyebrows at the young woman. "Care to take that risk?"

Claire's heart was hammering in her chest as she weighed her options. At such close range, she was sure she could take the woman out, but would she be able to do it in time to save Sherry? And what were the odds that Alexia came here alone? Maybe, if she put her weapon aside, she could convince the other woman to let Sherry go. After all, she had no grudge against the girl, and was only using her to get to Claire. Once Alexia got what she wanted, there was no need to harm Sherry. 

"If I put the gun down, will you let her go?" Claire asked, reluctantly.

Alexia's smile was chilling. "As soon as we finish our little chat." 

Claire slowly lowered the gun and placed it on the kitchen counter, never taking her eyes off the two figures seated a few feet away. "Okay, now what?"

"Sit down."

The young woman complied, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table.

"Put your hands on the table," Alexia ordered. 

Once again, Claire did as she was instructed, resting her hands on the wooden surface. A chill ran down her spine as her eyes rested on Sherry. "You said you'd let her go."

"After we've had a chance to talk", Alexia reminded her.

"About what? Your amazing resurrection?" The sound of the other woman's laughter made Claire's blood run cold.

"There's nothing amazing about it, you silly fool." The hand that had been holding the needle to Sherry's throat came to rest on the girl's shoulder as Alexia regarded Claire with a look of bemusement. "I was never in the Antarctic."

"What?" Claire stared at her, disbelieving.

"It's a rather complicated story…but an interesting one."

Claire stood abruptly and slammed the palms of her hands on the table. "The only thing I'm interested in is finding out what the hell you want from me!"

Alexia pulled Sherry to her tightly as she pressed the needle into her neck, eliciting a soft moan from the young girl. Her icy stare fixed on Claire. "I want you to take that drink."

Claire looked down and noticed a small glass sitting on the table in front of her. She was suddenly filled with a sense of dread. The situation was spinning out of control and she found herself wishing she had pulled the trigger. Whatever was in that glass would probably render her unconscious…and thereby useless to help Sherry. Her hands curled into fists as she shook her head. "You said you'd let her go." 

Alexia's lips pulled back into a sneer as she twisted Sherry's neck back. Her hand tensed as her thumb began to press down on the plunger.

"Stop!" Claire cried out. 

Alexia looked over at her. "Drink it."

Every instinct Claire had was telling her not to comply, but she grabbed the cup and raised it to her lips. With a quick tilt of her head, she tossed the contents back in one gulp. As she swallowed it, the bitter taste made her wince. She placed the empty cup on the table and slid it across the smooth surface. 

Alexia smiled at her. "Good girl."

  
"Alexia, please…"

"Claire, I suggest you sit down…before you fall down." She watched with satisfaction as the young brunette put a hand to her head. "It works rather quickly, as you can tell."

Claire shook her head in an effort to clear the fog that was beginning to descend on her. She reached out and gripped the table, trying to stay on her feet, but only managed to stumble into the table. A hand seized her arm, making her cry out in surprise as she spun around to defend herself. Alexia was suddenly standing next to her, trying to force her down. Claire attempted to fight back, but she was too disoriented, and found herself slumped back into a chair, with Alexia straddling her lap. Afraid she was about to lose consciousness, Claire turned her head to the side, her unfocused gaze seeking out Sherry. She could feel the moisture building in her eyes as she realized how she had failed to protect the young girl…and that this was probably the last time she would ever see her. Her thoughts were interrupted as the feel of cool fingers gripped her jaw, turning her head to face forward.

"Are you still with me, Claire?" Alexia raised her voice slightly as she peered closely at the young woman's face. A pair of indigo blue eyes regarded her behind half closed lids. She frowned and began slapping Claire's cheek in an effort to keep her awake just a few moments longer. 

"What do you want?" Claire mumbled as her head lolled back against the chair.

Alexia placed her hands on either side of Claire's head, holding it firmly as she stared at the young woman. She waited until their eyes met, seeing a moment of lucidity in the brunette's face. "Revenge, Claire. That's what I want."

Claire could feel her thoughts dimming. "Then kill me", she whispered. "But, please, don't hurt Sherry."

Alexia leaned close enough to Claire so their foreheads touched. "I'm not interested in hurting children," she said softly. "I want an eye for an eye. Do you understand?"

Claire was fighting to stay awake, but knew she was about to lose the battle. Her eyes finally closed as she succumbed to the drug in her system. Alexia knew she was now unconscious, but continued to cradle her head as she whispered in her ear. 

"You killed my brother, Claire. Now, I'm going to kill yours."

***

Chris peered around the corner of the building to get a better view of what lay beyond. This was supposed to be the location of HCF Enterprises, but it didn't look like much to him. Perhaps that was the point. From the outside, it appeared to be just another rundown warehouse. There wasn't much activity, although several of the dock doors were open. From his vantagepoint, Chris could see fork trucks moving past the doors every now and then, which meant there was somebody home.

"Alright, I'm ready."

Chris looked back over his shoulder at Dick Valentine. The man had been growing steadily impatient waiting for Chris and the others to devise a rescue plan. Although Chris could certainly understand the man's desire to act, he knew they would only get one chance at this, and he had no intention of blowing it.

"I just want you to go in and take a look around," Chris informed him. 

"Got it", Dick said as he took a couple of steps past Chris.

Chris reached out and caught his arm. "I mean it, Dick. No heroics."

Dick pulled his arm free. "I'm not stupid, Redfield, and I'm not about to put my kid's life at risk just to play hero."

Chris' expression softened. "Sorry. I didn't mean --"

"I know what you meant," Dick said, cutting him off. "I'll check the place out and come right back." He stared at the building with a look of grim determination. 

"If anything goes wrong, we'll be there in a flash," Barry offered. 

"Right," Rebecca said, nodding her head in agreement.

"Okay. I'm off." Dick tucked his hands into his pockets and set out across the parking lot. He began whistling softly as he made his way toward the warehouse.

Chris watched Dick approach the building, hoping he hadn't made a mistake in sending the man in alone. The foursome agreed that they needed more information about the layout of the building before attempting to get inside. Dick had immediately volunteered pointing out that, having been a professional thief, this was his area of expertise. He was also quick to mention that if Wesker was on the premises, he had the best chance of going unrecognized. 

"I only hope Jill is really in there," Rebecca said softly. 

Chris glanced back at the young woman and reached his hand out to give her shoulder a squeeze. "My gut instinct is telling me she is, Becca."

"Let's just hope Dick can pull this off," Barry muttered.

The trio watched Dick's retreating back as he approached the steps leading onto the warehouse platform. Chris held his breath while watching Dick exchange a few words with one of the workers. As the two men disappeared from view, Chris said a silent prayer.

***

"I'll be in a lot of trouble if Doctor Lessing finds out about this." 

Ellen rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Stop worrying. I told you, I just want to ask her couple of questions and then I'll leave." She watched from behind as the young technician unlocked the door to the lab, giving him a reassuring smile as he glanced nervously over his shoulder. The decision to try something so risky was only adding to Ellen's growing level of excitement. 

After speaking to the doctor, it was obvious that Wallace had some kind of plan up his sleeve. She surmised that Leon's friend was either a pawn to be used against him, or Wallace and Valentine knew each other. Either way, she decided she had to get in and speak to the woman. If she could find out anything about Wallace, maybe even discover something she could use against him, it was worth the risk. 

"Maybe I should stay with you." The young man gave her a look of concern.

Ellen rested a hand on his shoulder. "Thank You, but I think I should do this alone. If anyone finds me here, I'll come up with an excuse. I wouldn't want to get you into trouble, Jeffrey."

The young man smiled, sheepishly. "I appreciate that. Just remember to lock up on your way out, okay?" He stared at her for a moment, as if wanting to say something more. 

"Right." Ellen sensed his hesitation, feeling a momentary twinge of guilt for misleading the man. It was obvious he had a thing for her, and she had purposely used that to her advantage. "You'd better get going."

"Ah…"

Ellen gave him a quizzical look. "Is there something else?"

"Um…no. Just be careful with the dosage."

Ellen held the syringe up and winked at him. "I'll administer it exactly the way you told me."  


Jeffrey smiled, nervously. "Good luck." He turned and headed out the door, leaving Ellen standing in the hallway, alone.

***

Jill felt like she was buried under a layer of gauze. She could hear someone speaking to her, trying to coax her from her deep slumber. With great effort, she tried to concentrate on the source, allowing it to lead the way. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw a woman's face. 

"Miss Valentine, you must wake up." The tone sounded urgent. 

Jill blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the heavy feeling of forced sleep. The lighting was dim, giving her eyes a chance to adjust. She swallowed hard, grimacing at the dryness in her throat. As if the woman sensed her need, she felt a cup of water pressed to her lips. She lifted her head from the pillow, sipping slowly at first, then began to swallow it greedily. 

"Slow down, or you'll make yourself sick" the woman chided.

Jill complied, finally quenching her thirst, and rested her head back. She took a moment to look at the person who had come to her aid. The woman appeared to be a bit older than Jill, with long red hair and bright green eyes. There was no look of malice in those eyes, which only added to Jill's confusion.

"Who are you?" she finally said.

"My name is Ellen Ross. I mean you no harm."

"That's a relief." Jill lifted a hand to rub her eyes. "You're probably the only person around here who doesn't."

"Actually, you're no longer at Umbrella."

Jill's hand dropped back to the bed. "What?"

"You were rescued" Ellen explained.

Jill stared at the woman in disbelief. "How? When? I thought--"

"I don't have a lot of time to explain. It was arranged by Leon Kennedy."

"Leon?" 

"You do know him?" 

Jill nodded, still trying to get her bearings. "Yes, but--"

"Well, he works for us," Ellen interrupted. "He asked us to get you out and so we did."

This last bit of information brought a look of suspicion to the ex-police officer's face. "Who is us, exactly?"

Ellen could sense the other woman's concern. Even in a somewhat drug-induced haze, it was obvious that she wasn't stupid. If Ellen wanted information from Jill Valentine, she would need to establish a feeling of trust.

"HCF Enterprises," she offered.

"I've never heard of them," Jill commented.

Ellen smiled. "I'm not surprised. We like to keep a low profile."

Jill eyed the other woman, wearily. "Now why doesn't that give me a warm, fuzzy feeling." She paused to take a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever may come next. "So, what am I doing here? In fact, where is here?"

"You're in Los Angeles."

"What?" Jill sat up, abruptly, ignoring her aching body. The idea of being shipped around like a piece of luggage was very unnerving to her. The one thing she needed right now was a sense of control. She pulled the sheet back and swung her legs off the bed, making Ellen take a few steps back.

"What are you doing?" Ellen asked, alarmed by the woman's sudden movement.

"Look, Ellen. I appreciate what you folks have done for me, but I need to get out of here. There are people I need to contact." Jill started to stand up, but her legs were not yet ready to support her. 

Ellen grabbed her under the arms as she started to fall. "Whoa, there. I don't think you have your sea legs yet." She helped Jill to sit back on the edge of the bed. "You've been through quite an ordeal and your body is still recuperating."

Jill expression was a mix of gratitude and annoyance. "Fine. How about a phone, then?"

"There are no phones down here."

Jill narrowed her eyes. "Down here?" She looked at her surroundings more closely. Her first assumption was that she was in a hospital. Now, she realized that the room she was in looked more like a laboratory, with an assortment of computers and medical equipment. A growing sense of unease began to gnaw at her. "You never did tell me where I was…specifically."

Ellen hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much until she got the information she needed. "I told you that you were in Los Angeles. The exact location is irrelevant since you probably wouldn't know it anyway."

Jill reached out and grabbed the woman's forearm. "It's not irrelevant to me," she hissed. "Now, what is this place?"

Ellen pulled her arm free and took a step back. "You are at HCF's headquarters. We thought it necessary to bring you here, as it was likely Umbrella would have found you in a hospital."

"How touching that you were concerned for me." Jill ran a hand through her hair, suddenly longing for a long, hot shower.

Ellen sighed, impatiently. "Look, Miss Valentine--"

"Where's Leon?" Jill asked, cutting the woman off.

"I don't know," Ellen answered, truthfully. 

"Where are my clothes?" 

"I don't know."

"You're just a fountain of information, aren't you?" Jill remarked. "Do you have anything I can wear? I can't run around in a johnny."

Ellen shook her head. "I don't think you're capable of doing much running around yet, but if you want to change, we have some surgical scrubs in the cabinet."

"That'll be fine." Jill followed the woman's movements carefully as she made her way across the room. "How do I get out of here?"

Ellen returned with the clothing and handed it to Jill. "That will be rather complicated."

"What a surprise," Jill said, flippantly. "Care to tell me why?" 

"Do you know a man named Wallace?" Ellen questioned.

"Doesn't ring a bell," Jill replied as she changed her clothes. "Who is he?"

Ellen frowned. "He runs this facility."

Jill looked over at the woman, sensing a subtle change in her demeanor. "So, he's your boss?"

"Yes."

"What made you think I would know him?" Jill asked, looking down at her bare feet. 

"Let's just say I was hoping…" Ellen suddenly turned toward the door, holding a hand up to Jill. "I think someone's coming."

Jill began to massage her legs, trying to work out the stiffness. "So."

"So, I'm not supposed to be in here," Ellen said as she moved swiftly toward the observation window. She reached up and pulled down the shutter to block the view from the hallway. "And I'm most certainly not supposed to be talking to you."

"Why?" Jill asked.

"Because you're supposed to be sedated," Ellen offered.

"Gee, that's funny. I thought I was supposed to be recuperating." Jill looked down at her feet again. "I don't suppose you have an extra pair of shoes lying around, do you?"

"Sorry." 

Jill's expression turned serious. "Why don't you tell me exactly what I'm doing here, Ellen."

"As I've already explained, we rescued you at the request of Le--"

"Yeah, yeah. You've told me that part. Why am I supposed to be sedated?"

Ellen shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't fully understand the reason behind that. I only know that Mr. Wallace insisted on it."

Jill studied the woman's face for a moment. "And why did you wake me up?"

"I wanted information on Wallace. I thought you might be able to provide it." Ellen glanced back at the door again. "Unfortunately, I was wrong."

Jill thought for a moment. "Maybe not."

Ellen's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean?" 

Jill finally stood up on her own and was happy to find her legs would now support her. But, there was no way she would be able to get out of this place without help and right now Ellen Ross was her only ally. "What I mean is, I've met a lot of people in my travels. Just because I don't know the name doesn't mean I don't know the person."

"Good point." 

Jill began taking a few experimental steps across the room. "What can you tell me about him?"

"Well, I'm afraid I don't know very much," Ellen lamented. "Except that he used to work for Umbrella."

"Gee, I dislike him already," Jill commented. "What else?" 

Ellen sighed, heavily. "That's about it…unless you include his bizarre penchant for sunglasses." 

Jill froze. "What?"

The redhead turned to look at Jill, noticing her complexion had paled considerably. "He wears sunglasses all the time. In fact, I've never seen him without them, even at night." She studied Jill's face. "Why? Is that significant?"

"Jesus Christ…" Jill started heading towards the door, steadying herself against the tables as she went. "I have to get out of here." 

Ellen followed close behind. "What's wrong?" 

Jill turned her frightened gaze at the woman. "That man wants me dead." As she grabbed the door handle, Ellen reached out and gripped her shoulder, spinning her around and pressing her back to the door. In Jill's weakened condition, she was hardly in a position to offer much resistance.

"Tell me what you know about him," the redhead demanded. Jill reached a hand up to push the woman away, but Ellen caught her by the wrist and slammed her arm against the door. "Tell me!"

"Get the hell off me!" Jill retorted. She saw a flicker of emotion flash across the woman's face as she released her, but couldn't identify it. Jill began to rub her wrist as she glared at the woman. "So much for not meaning me any harm." 

"I apologize."

"Save it," Jill said, angrily. "Why are you so interested in him, anyway?"

Ellen's expression remained neutral. "I have my reasons." 

"Well, here's the deal, Ellen. You show me a way out of here, and I'll tell you everything I know about Albert Wesker," Jill proposed. "Deal?"

Ellen looked at Jill with a confused expression. "Wesker?"

"That's his real name," Jill explained.

"But, how do you know--"

"About 6 foot 4, blonde hair, dark sunglasses…very arrogant?" The two women stared at each other in silence. Jill could see her own fear mirrored in the other woman's eyes.

Ellen finally looked away. "That's him," she said softly. With deliberate slowness, she reached into her jacket and removed a small handgun. "Here...you might need this." She handed it to Jill.

The young woman accepted it, smiling wistfully. "Thanks, but I don't know how much help this will be if I run into him." She checked the clip and found it fully loaded. "Maybe I could throw it at him," she joked, thinking back on her conversation with Chris after they had left the train station. That car ride suddenly seemed like it took place a lifetime ago. But, his warning about Wesker was still fresh in her mind. Chris had told her all about their confrontation on Rockfort Island. Her former Captain was now something less than human.

…or something more.

__

Chris…Where are you when I need you?

Jill suppressed a shiver as she turned her attention back to Ellen. "We need to get out of here."

Ellen nodded in agreement. "I'll show you the way. But, once you get up to the street level, you're on your own." She stepped past Jill and pulled the door open, being careful to check the hallway before motioning for the other woman to follow her. "There's an elevator at the end of the next corridor."

Jill put a hand on Ellen's arm. "Wesker is a very dangerous man. If he finds out you've helped me…" She let the implication go unspoken.

Ellen's gaze was intense. "I have bigger problems, at the moment." She opened the next door and the two women continued into another hallway. "Now, what can you tell me about him?" 

Jill's dark eyes scanned the corridor for any possible threats as they progressed toward the elevator. Her body ached from head to toe, but she tried to ignore it. If they ran into any trouble, she could only hope her reflexes wouldn't fail her. As they reached the end of the hall, she turned to face Ellen. "He was a cop in Raccoon City, Oregon. If you know anything about Umbrella, than I'm sure you've heard the stories about what happened there."

Ellen nodded. "Yes. Leon gave me some of the highlights." 

"Well," Jill continued, "Prior to that, the police did some investigating at an estate there."

"The Spencer estate, right?"

"Right," Jill confirmed. "You know about that, too?" 

"Just what I read in the papers. You were one of the officers involved, weren't you?" Ellen asked.

"Yes…and Albert Wesker was my commanding officer."

Ellen looked puzzled. "I thought he worked for Umbrella?"

Jill's expression hardened. "He did. And, he betrayed us. He shot two officers, one of which died in my arms." She closed her eyes for a moment, reliving those few moments with Enrico in that dark, cold passageway. His last words still hanging in the air as the shots rang out…

__

'There's a traitor in the S.T.A.R.S.'

Jill tried to shake off the horrible memory as she continued. "He tried to kill us all. Fortunately, he didn't succeed. But, a lot of people died there…some of my teammates, as well as Umbrella's own employees. I thought Wesker died there too, but I was wrong."

"Why is he not working for Umbrella anymore?" Ellen questioned.

"That I can't answer," Jill answered, ruefully. "But, there is one other thing you need to know."

"What's that?"

Jill locked eyes with the other woman. "He's different now…from when I knew him."

Ellen cocked her head sideways. "Meaning?"

"He's had some kind of…physical enhancements," Jill said, slowly. She watched the other woman's skeptical expression. "Look, I know it sounds nuts, but I've seen some really insane things since this whole ordeal started. I haven't witnessed his abilities first hand, but I know someone else who has. And trust me, he's a reliable source."

"That's true."

The sound of another voice startled both women as they turned to look back at the door they had just come through. A large figure was leaning against the open doorway.

"Wesker," Jill breathed. She took an involuntary step back as her hand tightened on the gun in her hand.

"Dr. Valentine, I presume." Wesker smirked. He stood up straight as he focused on Jill's companion. "While we're on the subject of betrayal, Ellen..." The redhead stood her ground as he took a deliberate step towards them. 

Jill raised her gun and pulled the trigger.

__

Oh, what a cruel place to stop, I know. It's been so long since I've posted a chapter that I'm not sure if anyone will still be reading it (I know I hate it when that happens to me, so I apologize for the delay). I was put out of commission for a while by a hospital stay (long story), but now I'm doing better and have climbed back on my writing horse. Anyway, chapter 15 is in the works, so check back soon. I also have to admit to a bit of plagiarizing, as I stole the first line of this chapter from one of my favorite movies. If anyone can guess what it is, I'll use your name for a minor character later in the story (cheap gimmick inserted here by the author). Later, folks.


	15. Hits and Misses

Sacrifices  
  
Chapter 15: Hits and Misses  
  
"You missed."  
  
Jill blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to focus on the blur moving toward her. She squeezed off several rounds in a desperate attempt to slow Wesker down, but realized she failed when a fist struck the side of her head. Her body slammed into the wall with such force she was certain she had cracked a few ribs. She slid to the floor as the gun skidded across the hall and out of her reach.  
  
"Don't go away, Jill." Wesker sneered. He turned his attention to Ellen, who stood nearby, staring in disbelief. Seeing him standing only a few feet away prompted her into action. She dove for the gun, but a hand grabbed a hold of her hair and pulled her back onto her knees. She looked up to find Wesker now standing behind her with a menacing grin on his face. "You're so predictable, you stupid bitch."  
  
Ellen reached up and grabbed at his hand in an attempt to free herself. "Let go of me! I…I wasn't betraying you…you don't understand!!"  
  
"I understand perfectly, Ellen." Wesker's tone was soft as he whispered in her ear. "You've decided to leave your poor little girl an orphan."  
  
Jill gripped her side in agony as she turned over to watch the scene unfolding before her. With considerable effort, she got to her knees and began to crawl towards the pair as they continued to grapple with each other. She could see Wesker reaching down to grab the woman's chin in his hand. Ellen suddenly ceased her struggle, allowing her body to go limp, as if resigned to her fate. Ellen's anguished eyes fixed on Jill as she made a last, desperate plea.  
  
"Help Christina...please." With an audible crack, the woman's head was twisted sideways at an impossible angle. Her body hit the floor, hard, as Wesker released her and dusted his hands off, pausing to admire his handiwork.  
  
"No…" Jill's voice was barely above a whisper as her lungs struggled to take in enough air. She stared at the unmoving form in horror as Wesker began to advance toward her.  
  
"It's nice to know I can still turn a few heads, huh Jill?" He smiled, malevolently.  
  
"You…monster," Jill gasped, still trying to catch her breath. She continued to lean forward on her hands, unable to tear her gaze from Ellen's unseeing eyes.  
  
"I think it's time for us to get reacquainted, don't you?" Wesker's tone was almost conversational. "You can fill me in on what the old gang's been up to, lately." He reached down and gripped Jill's arms, tightly, as he pulled her to her feet. "I guess I don't have to ask about Chris, do I?" Wesker shook his head. "He always was a lucky son of a bitch." He pushed Jill up against the wall, placing one hand around her slender throat. "What's wrong, Jill. No snappy comebacks?"  
  
"Fuck you," she spat, trying to pry his hand off of her.  
  
Wesker chuckled as he tightened his grip. "Sorry, no time for that." He moved his other hand down and squeezed her injured ribs, making her cry out. "And you should watch your mouth, young lady."  
  
Darkness teased the edge of Jill's vision as she struggled to breathe. Wesker pressed his face close to hers, making their noses touch, while his hand continued to apply pressure to her tender side.  
  
"We still have some unfinished business…and there'll be no interruptions like the last time we--" Wesker tilted his head slightly as his body slumped forward. Jill felt his hand letting go of her neck as he fell against her, bringing them both to the floor. She didn't comprehend what was happening until she saw the small dart protruding from his back. She looked up to find another figure standing over Ellen's inert form with a small gun clutched in his hand.  
  
The man knelt down and placed a hand on Ellen's throat, searching for a pulse.  
  
Realizing she was dead, he looked over at Jill with confusion in his eyes. "What the hell happened?"  
  
Jill slowly got to her feet, stepping over Wesker as she approached the man, unsure if he would turn the gun on her. She could see he was visibly shaken over Ellen's death and hoped that meant he would listen to reason. "He killed her because she was helping me escape."  
  
"Escape?" The man looked mystified. "What do you mean? I thought Mr. Wallace rescued you from Umbrella?"  
  
"First of all, his real name is Albert Wesker," she explained, gesturing toward the unconscious figure on the floor, "and he's wanted for murder."  
  
"Murder?"  
  
Jill continued on, ignoring the man's bewildered expression. "He was keeping me here against my will. Ellen came down here to get me out."  
  
The young man continued to stare at Ellen, reaching out to gently caress her hair. "I should have stayed with her."  
  
Jill looked puzzled. "Who are you?"  
  
"Jeffrey Horowitz." He stood up, never taking his eyes off of Ellen. "I work in the lab. I…I let Ellen in to see you. I didn't realize what was going on…" He dropped his weapon and clenched his fists. "I should have stayed."  
  
Jill gave him a look of sympathy. "It's doubtful you could have done anything, even if you were here. He took us by surprise."  
  
Jeffrey finally turned his gaze to Jill. " Are you injured?"  
  
"I've had worse." She glanced back at Wesker. "How long will he be out?"  
  
"A couple of hours, at least." He walked past Jill and headed to the elevator, swiping his card through the electronic reader. "You should go."  
  
Jill's expression was wary. "You're just letting me walk out of here?"  
  
"HCF is not in the business of kidnapping," Jeffrey commented as he cast a glance at Wesker's still form. "All evidence to the contrary. But, I'm not sure who else might be involved in this, so you'd better get out while you can." He let out a heavy sigh. "When you get to the top floor, go to the end of the hallway. Take a right, then your second left and you'll come out to the loading dock. It's the quickest way out." The elevator door opened. "Got it?"  
  
Jill nodded. "You saved my life, you know."  
  
Jeffrey shook his head. "No…Ellen did. I only wish I had gotten here sooner, maybe I could have saved hers," he responded, softly. "Now, you'd better go."  
  
"Wait." Jill bent down and picked up the gun Ellen had given her. She stood over Wesker and pointed it at his head.  
  
Jeffrey placed a restraining hand on her arm. "What are you doing?"  
  
Jill's expression was hard. "You don't understand who you're dealing with here."  
  
"Maybe not, but I'm not going to stand here and watch you execute him…no matter what he's done," Jeffrey stated, adamantly.  
  
"Look, all this guy does is leave dead bodies in his wake…like your friend," Jill retorted.  
  
"And he should be punished, but not this way," the man reasoned.  
  
"I can't just leave him here!" Jill responded, vehemently. She shook Jeffrey's arm off, determined to put an end to Wesker's miserable life. Her finger began to squeeze the trigger, until Jeffrey stepped in front of the gun, effectively blocking her aim. "Get out of the way," she told him.  
  
"No!"  
  
Jill stared at the man in disbelief. "Why are you protecting him?"  
  
"There's already been one murder here." He reached his hand up and rested it on top of the gun, gently coaxing Jill's hand down. "If you do this, you'll be no different than him. Is that what you want?"  
  
Jill pinned him with her dark, intense gaze. "What I want, is to be finished with him…once and for all." She dropped her hand to her side. "You have no idea what horrible things this man has done. I can't just walk away."  
  
"Yes, you can," Jeffrey prodded. "I'll contact the authorities and tell them what happened. They know who he is, right?"  
  
"Yes, but they thought he was dead…we all did."  
  
He could see the young woman eyeing him, skeptically. "He's not going anywhere. I promise."  
  
"I don't know…"  
  
"Please. I need to do this…for Ellen."  
  
Jill suddenly remembered Ellen's plea. "Who is Christina?"  
  
Jeffrey narrowed his eyes. "You mean, Ellen's daughter?"  
  
"I guess," Jill answered. "She asked me to help her. Just before Wesker…" her voice trailed off.  
  
"Help her, how?"  
  
Jill ran a hand through her hair in exasperation. "She never got a chance to tell me."  
  
Jeffrey looked at her, sadly. "I wish I could help, but I don't really know anything about her. Ellen only mentioned her to me once, or twice."  
  
Jill sighed inwardly. "Well, I can't do anything from here." She glanced down at Wesker. "We should move him somewhere secure."  
  
"I'll take care of him," he offered. "You better get out of here."  
  
"I suppose," Jill agreed, reluctantly. She walked to the elevator, still clutching her gun. As she entered, she turned to look at Jeffrey one more time. "Make sure you keep him sedated until the police get here. He's a lot stronger than you think…almost inhumanly so."  
  
The young man smiled, briefly. "I gave him enough to knock out an elephant. He'll sleep for hours."  
  
Jill's face held a worried expression. "I pray to God you're right." She hit the button for the top floor.  
  
"Good luck," he called out.  
  
Jill flashed him a grateful smile. "You, too…and thanks."  
  
Jeffrey nodded, watching the doors close. He stared at the elevator for a moment before turning his attention to Albert Wesker's unmoving form. The lab technician bent down and placed his hands under the other man's arms with the intention of dragging him down the hallway.  
  
That was when he noticed Wesker's eyes were open.  
  
***  
  
Dick stood at the rear of the dock as he waited for the supervisor. He told the warehouse foreman that he was looking for a job in the hopes of being able to get a better look around. Instead, the man told him to wait on the platform while he brought someone else out to speak with him.  
  
From his vantage point, he could see only three ways into the building. There were two doors leading inside, one on either end of the dock, and what appeared to be the door to a freight elevator, about halfway in between. The man he had spoken with headed through the door on the right end of the dock, where Dick was now standing. His eyes scanned the walls and ceiling for security devices, knowing that it was probably a very sophisticated system. He spotted several mini-cameras located at various points above him where the walls met the ceiling. He also noticed that all of the doors were adorned with electronic card readers, which seemed a bit elaborate for a warehouse, even if the company dealt in pharmaceuticals. He decided there was definitely something strange going on in this building.  
  
"Sorry about the wait."  
  
Dick turned to see the man he had spoken to standing behind him. He silently cursed himself for being so distracted. "No problem. I was just taking a look around."  
  
"I couldn't find the VP. He must have stepped out, or something. Why don't you give me your name and number and I'll leave it for him."  
  
"The VP?" Dick questioned.  
  
"The vice-president," the man explained. "He does all the hiring around here."  
  
"Isn't that unusual?"  
  
The man nodded. "Yeah. But, he's a real stickler about security. Doesn't trust anybody else's judgment about people…even mine."  
  
"He sounds paranoid," Dick commented.  
  
"Personally, I think he just does it to bust my balls," the man replied with a wry grin. "He's a real asshole."  
  
"Gee, you're really selling me on the place."  
  
The man laughed, heartily. "Yeah, well, the pay is really good. You just have to put up with some weird shit every now and then."  
  
Dick tried to feign disinterest. "Oh?"  
  
"Sometimes we come in at odd hours," the man explained. "Shipments arrive at all different times, so it makes it kind of tough to set a regular schedule. A lot of guys don't like that, so I thought I'd mention it up front."  
  
Dick studied the man, carefully. There didn't seem to be anything even remotely sinister about him. After years of dealing with criminals, the one- time thief thought himself to be a good judge of other people. It seemed likely that this man was probably ignorant to whatever was really going on here. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. "That shouldn't be a problem. I'm new to the area, so I don't really know a lot of people. I just want to keep myself busy."  
  
"Well, we can certainly manage that."  
  
Dick looked around, briefly. "Do you have a phone I can use?"  
  
The man shook his head. "Sorry. There are no phones out here."  
  
"Any chance I could use one inside? I need to call my ride."  
  
"No one's allowed in the building without proper clearance." The man walked over to a table and grabbed a pad of paper. "Now, what was your name again?"  
  
"Bill Rogers," Dick lied. "Is there a pay phone around?"  
  
"Nope. You'd have to hike it down the road a ways to find one," the man responded. "And your phone number?"  
  
Dick ran a hand through his dark hair as he recited a bogus phone number. He watched as the foreman wrote it down, deciding to press a bit further. "I don't mean to be pain in the ass, but I was expecting this to take a while longer. My buddy won't be back for almost an hour. Is there any chance you could let me make a call?"  
  
"It's against the rules," the man reiterated.  
  
"Look, you can blindfold me, okay?" Dick pleaded. "I was a boy scout for Christ's sake."  
  
The man looked at Dick with an expression of amusement. "You'll make it fast?"  
  
Dick held up his hand in the traditional gesture. "Scout's honor." He smiled to himself as the man moved to the door and swiped his card.  
  
"There's a phone on the wall near the end of the corridor. Just dial a nine to get an outside line."  
  
"Got it." Dick stepped inside, marveling at his good fortune. He spotted the phone immediately and walked to it, aware that the foreman was still watching him through the open door. There was a shout from somewhere outside, and the man hollered back over his shoulder as he let the door close.  
  
Dick grabbed the receiver off the phone and pretended to dial a number as he casually leaned against the wall. From where he stood, he could see down to the end of the next corridor, noting there was a sign for an elevator. He could hear the elevator doors open and the sound of muffled voices wafted toward him. He turned around to face the phone as two men rounded the corner heading in his direction. They walked by him and entered an office just a few feet away from the phone.  
  
He moved quietly as he stepped over to the door and pressed his ear against it, hoping to overhear anything that might help him find Jill. As he listened intently, he felt something cold and hard press against his neck.  
  
"Don't make a sound."  
  
Dick recognized the voice immediately. "Jilly?"  
  
Jill took a step back, staring in amazement as she brought the gun down. "Dad?"  
  
Dick spun around and drew her into a tight hug, pulling back immediately when he heard her make a painful sound. "Are you okay?"  
  
Jill nodded, pressing a hand to her side. "Yeah, I just hurt my ribs." She winced as he touched the side of her head.  
  
"That's not all you've hurt," he observed as he peered closer at the bruise on her temple. "You've got a nasty bump here."  
  
Jill pulled his hand away. "I'm fine. Let's get out of here."  
  
Dick sized up his daughter's appearance as she looked back down the corridor she had come from. The wound on her head was the only visible sign of any trauma, although she looked completely worn out. He didn't know the details of what she'd been through yet, but he was certain it had been bad. He found himself wondering why she was wearing hospital scrubs. The clothing made her look so small...almost like the little girl she used to be. He watched Jill silently for a moment, thanking whatever God there might be that she was all right, and swearing to himself that he would make someone pay for what happened to her.  
  
"Okay," he finally responded. "But, there are quite a few people out there."  
  
Jill held up her gun. "Where are the others?"  
  
"Nearby…if we need them." Dick cast a sly grin as he unzipped his jacket. A shiny Colt .45 was holstered under his right arm. "A gift from Barry."  
  
Jill almost laughed out loud. "I should have known." She reached for his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "You ready?"  
  
Dick pulled the gun from its holster and chambered a round. "I am now." He pointed at the door to the loading dock. "There are about ten people out there right now, but I'm not sure if they're a real threat."  
  
"Let's just assume they are." Jill steadied herself and started walking down the hallway. The cold tile under her feet made her wish, for about the hundredth time, that she had a pair of shoes.  
  
Dick followed close behind, casting an occasional glance over his shoulder. As they reached the end of the hall, he heard a door open behind him. He put his hand on Jill's back and spoke in a soft, but urgent tone. "Go, quickly."  
  
Jill didn't hesitate as she pushed the door open, holding her gun out in front of her. There were voices shouting behind her as she ran out onto the dock. Several startled faces greeted her, all of whom stopped what they were doing as she bolted across the platform. She could hear her father's voice behind her, urging her on, as she approached one of the open doors. Just as she leapt off the landing, a hand snaked out and grabbed her arm. Jill's momentum propelled both her and her unknown assailant to the ground below.  
  
Dick saw Jill and the dock foreman fall off the platform as he slowed to point his gun at another worker blocking his path, who immediately backed away from him. He jumped down and spotted Jill lying on the ground, pointing her gun at the man as he scrambled to his feet.  
  
"Back off!" she warned.  
  
The man moved cautiously, backing up a few steps until he found himself pressed up against the building. He kept his eyes on the young woman as he lifted his hands in the air. "Take it easy, Miss," he said, calmly. "I don't mean you any harm."  
  
Jill stood up, moaning softly. "I wish people would stop saying that."  
  
"Are you alright?" Dick walked over to stand next to her, keeping his gun pointed at the foreman.  
  
Jill noticed Dick had the man covered so she lowered her gun and bent over, resting her hands on her knees. She knew the fall had made her injury worse as she fought to catch her breath. The sound of numerous footsteps made her pick her head up, just in time to see three security guards appear in the doorway above them.  
  
"Drop your weapons!" the guard on the right shouted.  
  
Dick could see all three men had their guns drawn. He looked at Jill out of the corner of his eye and noticed her arm coming up; apparently ready to fire her gun. He reached a free hand out and rested it on her forearm.  
  
"Jill…" he cautioned.  
  
She shook her head. "I'm not going back in there."  
  
"You've got that right."  
  
The guards all turned in unison to face the new arrival. A figure emerged from the stairwell to their left, holding a very large rifle. He stepped out of the shadows and held his weapon aloft, pointing it at the three men in uniform.  
  
"Drop your guns or I'll blow your fuckin' heads off," Chris ordered. The men complied immediately, throwing their weapons on the floor. "Face down on the ground, now." Again, the threesome followed his instructions without uttering a word. Chris walked to the door and looked down at the foreman below him, still keeping his gun trained on the guards. "If you're smart, you won't do anything stupid."  
  
The man nodded, vigorously. "I…I swear I didn't mean any harm. I thought she was a thief, that's all."  
  
Dick cast a sideways glance at his daughter. "Not anymore."  
  
Before Jill had a chance to respond to her father's comment, a van came screeching to a halt behind them. The side door flew open and Barry emerged. He ran over to Jill, who put a hand up before he got to her. "No hugs, Barry."  
  
Barry noticed her other hand was clutching her side. "Anything broken?"  
  
She shook her head. "I don't think so, but it hurts like hell."  
  
"She also took a good whack on the head," Dick commented.  
  
"Rebecca can get a look at you in the van," Barry responded. He put one large hand on Jill's shoulder and smiled, warmly. "It's good to see you're still in one piece."  
  
"Or at least several manageable ones," she joked, placing her hand on top of his.  
  
"We gotta go people," Chris hollered out to his friends as he kept an eye on the building, just in case anyone else decided to try and stop them from leaving.  
  
Barry made a gesture to Rebecca, who immediately left the driver's seat and climbed into the back of the van. He helped Jill inside and headed around to take the wheel.  
  
Dick waited for Chris to reach the vehicle, climbing into the passenger seat as the younger man entered through the side door. They both kept their weapons at the ready until everyone was safely inside.  
  
Chris slammed the panel door shut and called out to Barry. "Punch it!"  
  
Barry hit the gas, causing the van to lurch forward, as they sped away from the building and sailed through the exit gate. The tires squealed in protest as he turned onto the main roadway, keeping one eye on the rearview mirror for any pursuing vehicle. He took the first on ramp he came to and raced onto the highway. After several tense moments, he decided they had made a clean getaway.  
  
Dick glanced over and grinned. "Nice moves."  
  
"You, too." Barry adjusted the mirror to get a look in back. "Everyone okay?"  
  
"Yeah…" Rebecca piped up, "Except I'm wishing I had skipped that breakfast burrito this morning." She looked over at Jill and smiled as she grabbed a knapsack from under the seat. "It's good to have you back."  
  
"It's good to be back," Jill responded as she smiled in return. She turned to face Chris, who was looking at her, intently. "How did you find me?"  
  
"It's a long story," he answered softly.  
  
Jill shivered, involuntarily, at the sound of his voice. "Just give me the short version, then." His smoky gaze held her spellbound as he reached over and cupped her face in his hands. He pressed his lips to hers, gently, before pulling back and offering her his most heartfelt smile.  
  
"I've missed you."  
  
***  
  
Sigh* I'm a romantic at heart, so I couldn't resist ending this on a sweeter note. I also saw this chapter as a chance to wrap up one side of the story, although this fic seems to be turning into an epic. The ideas just keep coming. The movie line I mentioned in the last chapter was from 'A Perfect Murder'. Congratulations to Christina for figuring it out! I think her character will end up having a bigger role than I originally planned. I really enjoyed giving Jill the opportunity to kill Wesker. Of course, the outcome was ambiguous, but I'm still not even sure she could have gone through with it if Jeffrey hadn't convinced her otherwise. Anyone else have an opinion?  
  
Okay, Sam, keep repeating to yourself; they are not real people, they are not real people.  
  
Chapter 16 is in the works. Stay tuned…and keep the reviews coming. Later, folks. 


	16. Two's Company

Sacrifices  
  
Chapter 16: Two's Company  
  
"Could you point that thing somewhere else?" Leon asked, staring at the business end of a rather ominous looking Luger. The man he spoke to continued to ignore him.  
  
"When is someone gonna tell us what the hell is going on here?" Carlos raged. "We've been sitting in this fucking room for an hour, already!" He could barely sit still. The only thing keeping him in his seat was the small group of security guards standing over him. He cast an irritated look at his companion. "This is some outfit you work for, Kennedy."  
  
Leon regarded the young Hispanic with a bored expression. "Yeah...but they have a great 401k plan."  
  
Carlos shot him a dark look. "Is that supposed to be funny?"  
  
Leon shrugged. "I guess not." He stretched his long legs and crossed them at the ankle. "Look, Carlos, just try to relax. I'm sure whatever the problem is, we'll find out soon enough."  
  
"Not soon enough for me."  
  
Leon crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall, making a mental note to lay off the wisecracks until he and Carlos got out of their predicament. It was obvious the man didn't appreciate his sense of humor. Not too many people did.  
  
Except Claire and Sherry.  
  
Thinking of them brought a smile to Leon's face. He hoped they were both okay. Unfortunately, he and Carlos hadn't gone out alone, and the only chance he had to call Claire was from the lobby of a hotel. Wallace had given him a letter to drop off, so he went in by himself while the rest of the group waited in the car. She hadn't answered her cell phone. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't let that bother him, but things were hardly normal these days.  
  
The assignment Wallace had given him had been pretty straightforward. He and Carlos were supposed to retrieve some computer discs from an Umbrella lab near Arcadia, and then leave a few strategically placed explosive devices to put them out of commission for a while.  
  
He had done similar jobs before, so he knew the routine. One of the employees at the plant was paid a large sum of money to give HCF all the information it needed to gain access. He and Carlos had practically waltzed right in and taken what they came for, then proceeded to level the place with some C4 explosives. Leon was surprised to discover that Carlos had an extensive working knowledge of such devices, and took great pleasure in setting them off, as well.  
  
Of course, that wasn't so surprising, considering it was Umbrella they were trying to maim. He knew Carlos hated them as much as he did. Apparently, Wallace knew it, too. It was obvious the man was trying to recruit Carlos. But, after the way they were treated upon their return, it was unlikely the former mercenary would want to have anything to do with them.  
  
The first sign of trouble was the group of armed security guards they saw swarming the area around the building when they returned. The warehouse appeared to be completely locked down, giving Leon a feeling of unease. He had only seen it this way once before, when an Umbrella spy had been discovered on the grounds. Although the man had been spotted, he managed to get away. At the time, Leon couldn't decide if that had been a good thing or a bad thing. He certainly didn't want Umbrella getting any information about them, but he also knew that HCF was already operating way outside of the law, and he didn't want to add murder to the list of offenses. Despite everything, he still had a conscience.  
  
When the two men approached the building, some armed guards intercepted them and escorted them inside. Of course, Carlos had protested rather loudly. Leon had asked a few questions, but no one would provide an explanation as to what was going on. The two men were instructed to sit quietly until someone had the chance to speak with them. That had been over an hour ago, and Leon had to admit that he was beginning to lose his patience, although not to the degree that Carlos had.  
  
"Fuck this, man! I have had it!" Carlos jumped up from his chair and started toward one of the guards. The man took a step back and pointed his gun at Carlos' chest.  
  
"Sit down," he warned.  
  
"Fuck you, asshole."  
  
Leon jumped up and grabbed Carlos by the arm. "Don't be stupid."  
  
Carlos yanked his arm away and continued to glare at the guard. "If someone doesn't tell me what's going on here, right now, I'm gonna--" The door being pushed open interrupted Carlos as both men turned to see a figure standing in the doorway.  
  
"I'll tell you what's going on here, Mr. Oliveira," Albert Wesker answered, staring at them with a grave expression. "There's been a double murder."  
  
***  
  
"Why didn't she leave a note?"  
  
Jill looked on, wearily, as Chris continued to pace the distance of the small suite. "We probably just missed her...Oww!"  
  
Rebecca glanced up at her. "Sorry."  
  
"It's not like her," Chris insisted, as he stopped and bent down to look over Rebecca's shoulder. "You should stitch that."  
  
The young medic sighed, heavily, as she lifted Jill's foot a little higher. "I am...now, stop hovering, will you?" She looked up at Jill and rolled her eyes. "I never pegged you as a mother hen, Chris."  
  
Chris felt his face flush a bit as he straightened up and resumed his pacing. He decided to switch back to his original subject. "I tried her phone and there was no answer. With everything going on today it doesn't make sense that she and Sherry would just go out without letting us know."  
  
"Maybe they just went for a walk," Barry suggested.  
  
Dick stood up and stretched his arms over his head. "Jill, you should eat something."  
  
"I'm okay, Dad." Jill flinched again as Rebecca applied pressure to the gash on her foot. She didn't even remember doing it, but assumed it happened during her flight from the warehouse. "Jesus, taping my ribs didn't even hurt this much."  
  
"You cut into a muscle," Rebecca explained as she reached for a needle. "Unfortunately, the pain will get worse when I start to stitch it up." She gave her friend an apologetic look. "I'm a little reluctant to give you any pain medication since we don't know what kind of drugs might still be in your system."  
  
Jill bent over to peer closely at her injury. "That's okay. Truthfully, I'd prefer to stay sharp." She winced as Rebecca dabbed at the wound with a gauze pad.  
  
"Antiseptic," the brunette informed her.  
  
"I could use a drink," Dick announced as he headed toward the kitchenette. He rounded the corner and stepped behind the counter as he reached for a glass from the dish strainer. He leaned down to grab the small whiskey bottle he had left behind the night before when something on the floor caught his eye.  
  
A gun.  
  
Dick froze for a moment. He couldn't recall what type of gun Claire had been carrying. Even so, he knew it must be hers. He picked it up and walked back into the living room.  
  
"Chris."  
  
Chris turned at the sound of his name. He gave Dick a questioning look, until he saw what the man was holding in his hand. His eyes widened as he stepped forward and took it from the other man's grasp.  
  
"Where did you get this?" he asked.  
  
His odd tone made Jill pick her head up. She could see him holding a handgun. From the expression on his face, she knew immediately whose it was.  
  
"I found it on the floor behind the counter," Dick answered softly. "Is it Claire's?"  
  
Chris nodded, slowly, as his chest tightened with a feeling of dread. He stood in complete silence for a moment, trying to fight down the panic that was beginning to rise up from his gut. The voice in his head was already screaming at him.  
  
She's in trouble!  
  
He finally tore his gaze from the object in his hand and looked over at Jill. "Somebody must have been here."  
  
The group exchanged troubled glances as Chris tucked the gun in his belt. "I'll be back."  
  
Barry stepped forward. "Where are you going?"  
  
"Down to the front desk." He opened the door and disappeared down the hall.  
  
Jill cursed as she tried to get up and felt Rebecca's hand pressing down on her leg. "Barry, go with him," she pleaded.  
  
Barry nodded and headed out to follow his friend. He spotted Chris knelt down in the hallway near the door to the stairs. He had something clutched, tightly, in his hand.  
  
"What is it, Chris?"  
  
"This was on the floor," he responded as he got to his feet. He held his hand out to reveal a small piece of paper.  
  
Barry took it from him and read it aloud. "You shouldn't have left Sherry alone." He stared at it intently. "What the hell does this mean?"  
  
Chris pushed the door open and took off down the stairway as fast as he could. He heard Barry shout something, but ignored him. He reached the lobby floor and shoved the door with such force it nearly came off its hinges. Several people waiting by the elevator stared in shock as he bolted passed them and headed toward the main lobby.  
  
The woman at the front desk looked up from her computer when she heard the door slam. She spotted the man coming toward her at a fast pace, recognizing him in an instant, having helped him check in the previous day. He had been traveling with another woman, who she assumed was his wife. But, after noticing the resemblance, she decided they must have been brother and sister. They also had a young girl with them, but both seemed too young to be her parent. She remembered trying to flirt with him. She also remembered being rebuffed...but, in a nice way. As the man approached, she could see the grim expression on his face. Instead of looking handsome as he had yesterday, she thought he suddenly looked dangerous.  
  
"Can I help you?" Renee asked.  
  
"Did anyone leave a message for me...Dan Richards?" Chris asked.  
  
"No, I'm sorry. I don't have anymore messages for you."  
  
Chris started to turn away from her and stopped. "Did you say `anymore'?"  
  
"Yes. I just had the one for your...ah, for Diane Richards."  
  
Chris felt his heartbeat quicken. "When was this?"  
  
"Earlier this afternoon. She came down and picked it up." She could see the worried expression on his face. "Why? Is there a problem?"  
  
"Do you know who left it?" he questioned. Renee hesitated, looking past Chris. He looked over his shoulder to find Barry standing behind him. He turned back to her, seeing the reluctance on her face. "Please. It's very important."  
  
The last thing Renee wanted was to get into the middle of some kind of domestic squabble. "Well...I'm not going to get anyone in trouble here, am I?"  
  
Chris shook his head, emphatically. "No. In fact, you could be getting someone out of trouble."  
  
The woman reached down behind the counter. "The other person working the desk left a note on it for me." Her hand emerged with a yellow post-it note. "It was from an `L. Kennedy." She handed the paper to Chris.  
  
He stared at it for a moment. "Was he the person that dropped it off?"  
  
Renee shrugged. "I assume so."  
  
"Did you see him?" Chris persisted.  
  
"No. I wasn't here at the time."  
  
"Who was?" Barry asked, impatiently.  
  
Renee directed her answer to Chris. "Alice, and before you ask," she interjected, pointing at the concierge desk, "...she's over there." Both men turned and saw the person she pointed to standing behind another counter across the lobby.  
  
"Thanks," Chris offered, as he and Barry headed toward the other woman. She was busy talking to another employee when Chris interrupted. "Are you Alice?"  
  
The older woman glanced at him. "I'll be with you in a moment." She continued her conversation.  
  
"This is an emergency lady!" Barry barked.  
  
She shot him an annoyed look. "What can I do for you?"  
  
Chris stepped forward to get her attention. "There was an envelope dropped off for my sister earlier today and the woman over there said you saw the person who left it."  
  
The woman narrowed her eyes. "What's her name?"  
  
"Diane Richards."  
  
"Mmm...yes, but I don't recall the name of the person who dropped it off," Alice responded, furrowing her brow. "I recall jotting it down on a note, though."  
  
"Can you tell me what he looked like?"  
  
"He was reasonably tall...maybe six feet, brown hair, mid to late twenties, I'd say."  
  
"And the name he gave was Leon Kennedy?" Chris asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
She gave an affirmative nod. "Kennedy. Yes, that was it."  
  
"What did he say when he dropped it off?" Barry inquired.  
  
"Not a lot...just that he wanted to leave it for her." She hesitated, as if trying to recall something else. "Oh, and we were to wait an hour before we notified her."  
  
Chris' expression was grim. "Did he say why?"  
  
"No, and I didn't ask." She made a point of looking at her watch. "Is there anything else?"  
  
"Was there anyone with him?" Barry questioned.  
  
"No. Now if you'll excuse me." She didn't bother waiting for them to respond before she turned her back on them and resumed her discussion.  
  
Barry saw the look on the other man's face. "Chris, you know Leon would never hurt Claire. Or Sherry, for that matter."  
  
"Then, explain this to me."  
  
Barry sighed, loudly. "I can't."  
  
***  
  
The first thing Sherry was aware of was that she had a terrible headache. The second thing was the persistent shaking of her shoulder.  
  
"Quit it, Claire," she mumbled.  
  
"I'm not Claire," came the response.  
  
Sherry opened her eyes. A wave of nausea struck her as she lifted her head. Instinctively, she rolled over before spilling the contents of her stomach onto the floor.  
  
"Aww, gross!"  
  
Sherry wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her shirt and lay back again. She finally noticed an unfamiliar face floating above her.  
  
A little kid?  
  
A memory was beginning to surface as she realized she was no longer in her hotel room. There had been a knock at the door right after Claire headed down to the lobby. Sherry had assumed her friend had forgotten her key, so she opened the door without asking who it was first. Leon had told her a million times not to do such a thing, but she just hadn't been thinking. As she swung the door open, a woman she had never seen before stepped in and grabbed her, putting something over her mouth. That was the last thing she could remember.  
  
"Are you sick?"  
  
Sherry sat up, slowly, putting a hand to her head. "No." Getting up only made her head hurt more. "Where am I?"  
  
"In my room."  
  
"Huh?" She focused her gaze on the other person. The child standing in front of her was at least several years younger than her. "Who are you?"  
  
The girl began twirling a piece of long, black hair between her fingers. "My turn to ask a question." Her green eyes stared at Sherry with a look of mistrust. "Who're you?"  
  
"My name's Sherry." The pounding in her head was beginning to subside as she began to take in her surroundings. It appeared the girl was telling the truth. The room she was in looked just like a little girl's bedroom, right down to the canopy over the bed she now found herself in. "How did I get here?"  
  
The child shrugged her shoulders. "I dunno."  
  
"Well, did you see who brought me in?" Sherry asked with an exasperated tone.  
  
"Some guy," she answered, vaguely. "I've seen him in the lab before, but I don't know his name."  
  
Sherry paled. "Lab?"  
  
The girl nodded. "Yeah. I don't think he's a doctor, though." She walked over to a desk in the corner and sat down.  
  
Hearing the words `lab' and `doctor' was all the motivation Sherry needed to get moving. Ignoring her pounding headache, she stood up on wobbly legs and walked over to the only door she could see. She grabbed the knob and turned.  
  
It was locked.  
  
She examined it closely. There was no keyhole, which meant that it was locked from the outside. What kind of place was this? A child being kept locked up in a cozy little bedroom, complete with dolls and books, while outside lurked labs and doctors? Where the hell was she? Then, the thought struck her like a thunderbolt.  
  
Umbrella.  
  
Sherry could feel the terror swelling within her. She began shouting frantically as she pulled on the doorknob. "Let me out! Do you hear me? Let me out of here!" Another thought hit her. "Claire? Claire, where are you?" She began pounding the door with her fist as she continued to yell as loud as she could. After several minutes, her voice grew hoarse and the tears began to fall. She finally turned and slumped against the door, sliding to the floor with a sob.  
  
She sat there crying, softly, as she wondered what would happen to her. Would she become some kind of lab experiment? Maybe they already did something to her and she would turn into some kind of monster at any minute. Did anyone know where she was? What about Claire? She had only gone down to the lobby for a minute. Had she been taken before Claire had a chance to return? Or, maybe Claire walked in while it was happening. What if Umbrella had them both? What if Claire was...?  
  
Stop it, Sherry!  
  
No. There was no way she would allow herself to believe that Claire was dead, not after everything they had been through together. Claire was too smart. Even when she was captured in Paris, it had taken a swarm of Umbrella's goons to get her. And that was smack dab in the middle of their own headquarters. Although she had no idea who the woman was that had grabbed her, Sherry was certain that Claire could outsmart her, no matter how many people she brought with her.  
  
Just thinking about Claire gave her a sense of hope. She knew her friend would come for her. She just had to wait. She could do that. She had done it before.  
  
`Sweetie, I think it would be safest if I went and looked around first, and you stayed here-`  
  
`But, you said we should stay together! You said we could find a car and leave! What if the monster comes back and you're not here, or you get killed?'  
  
`I don't blame you for being scared. I'm scared, too. This is a bad situation--and, honestly, I don't know what's going to happen. But, I want to do the right thing by you, and that means that I'm not going to take you into a situation where you could get hurt, not if I can help it.'  
  
`But I want to come with you...what if you don't come back?'  
  
`I'm going to come back. I promise.'*  
  
Claire had made good on her promise in that darkened hallway. Sherry would never forget that moment when she looked down the elevator shaft, only to see Claire looking up at her with a smile on her face. Many people had made promises to her in her life. None of them had kept them.  
  
Except Claire.  
  
Right now, she needed to hold onto that memory. Thinking of her friend made her feel stronger, somehow. During their time in Raccoon, she had promised Claire that she would be strong. Now, it was time for her to keep a promise.  
  
"Are you done?"  
  
Sherry picked her head up, having all but forgotten she wasn't alone. She wiped her face with her sleeve and stood up. "Yeah, I'm done."  
  
"It doesn't make them come, ya know." The girl didn't look at Sherry as she spoke. Her eyes were focused on a coloring book, while her hands fumbled with a box of crayons. "They only come when they need to do tests."  
  
Sherry could feel the knot in her stomach begin to tighten. "Who's `they'?"  
  
The girl finally looked up at Sherry. "The doctors, silly."  
  
"Doesn't anyone else ever come to see you?" Sherry questioned.  
  
The girl frowned. "My mom...but, she didn't come today." She turned her attention back to the coloring book.  
  
Sherry felt a surge of compassion for the child. She knew what it was like to have a mother who didn't have time for you. "Maybe she just got busy, or something."  
  
"Maybe..."  
  
Sherry suddenly had a thought. "Hey, what's your name?"  
  
The child lifted her head and smiled for the first time.  
  
"Christina."  
  
***  
  
Oh, come on! We all knew Wesker was still kickin', right? Anyway, the next chapter should be up soon. So, Christina, it's official. You are now a literary character. Well, sort of...Later, folks.  
  
* I `quoted' this dialogue from the S.D. Perry novel, Resident Evil: City of the Dead. Please don't sue me. I don't have anything of value other than my computer (and trust me, you wouldn't want it...it's very temperamental. Just like its owner). 


	17. Reflections

1 Sacrifices  
  
Chapter 17: Reflections  
  
Doctor Robert Lessing leaned forward and took another look into the microscope. His heartbeat quickened as his eyes confirmed what he had hoped. After months of exhaustive research, he had finally figured it out. Of course, whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen.  
  
He took a quick glance around the lab and was relieved to find himself alone. It wasn't uncommon for him to become so engrossed in his work that he barely took notice of anyone else's comings and goings. At this moment, however, he wanted complete privacy. Reaching for a notepad on the table next to him, he jotted down some information and tore the page off, tucking it into the breast pocket of his shirt.  
  
He was the only one who knew the formula.  
  
That realization was of little comfort to him in light of what had occurred just a few hours ago. One of his brightest technicians, Jeffrey Horowitz, had been brutally murdered, along with Ellen Ross, HCF's Head of Security. The story being told was that the young woman they had rescued from Umbrella had been responsible. After regaining consciousness, she had had some type of psychotic episode, most likely as a result of her abduction, and had attacked Jeffrey and Ellen in the hallway during her flight from the med lab. Wallace claimed he had discovered both employees lying dead in the corridor with their necks broken.  
  
Robert didn't believe a word of it.  
  
He knew exactly what Andrew Wallace…or rather Albert Wesker, was capable of, having witnessed some of the man's brutality first hand during his days at Umbrella. He was certain Wesker had killed them himself. The only thing the young scientist didn't know was why.  
  
Perhaps the answer to that mystery lay with Jill Valentine. When he first learned of her impending arrival, he had recognized the name immediately. The contamination of the labs at the Spencer Estate had been the subject of numerous meetings within Umbrella's science division as a cautionary tale of the possible consequences of viral research.  
  
The accident had been a public relations nightmare for the giant conglomerate, what with the rumors of infected employees turning into the walking dead. The company was desperate to put an end to the "wild stories" being told by Raccoon City's local authorities, and set out to do so by destroying the reputations of all those involved.  
  
Most of the scientists he worked with had been following the story in the newspapers. There were several names that kept appearing in those columns, and Valentine had been one of them…along with Wesker, of course.  
  
When the young woman was brought down to the lab, Wesker had pulled him aside to give him some instructions to follow. The man's demeanor had been almost gleeful at the prospect of having her in his custody and Robert had been completely unnerved by it. At first, he objected to keeping Valentine sedated, concerned for her health in light of what had been done to her by Umbrella, but Wesker had made it perfectly clear that if he didn't do as he was told, there would be dire consequences. Certainly, what had happened to Jeffrey and Ellen was proof of that.  
  
Robert had tried to warn Ellen to stay away from Jill Valentine, though it was obvious she had ignored his counsel. He couldn't really blame her, though. She had a good reason to risk Wesker's wrath since he was using her daughter as a lab rat.  
  
Christina had celebrated her eighth birthday only three weeks ago, and Robert wondered what would become of her now that both of her parents were dead. She was far from being an average child, and with her strange abilities, she could be very difficult to handle. Ellen had learned how to cope with her daughter, but other people had struggled to deal with the girl, including her own father, who was the one responsible for her condition.  
  
Christina's father had been a top research scientist at Umbrella when he and Ellen Ross first met. Umbrella was in the process of building a new facility in Ohio when they hired an independent contractor to design a high- tech security system. Ellen was one of the consultants who handled the initial proposal to the multi-billion dollar client. After numerous discussions with some of the board members, she had been given complete access to the structure, which included a meeting with Samuel Gleason, the head of the newly formed research division known as White Umbrella.  
  
The project required them to spend a great deal of time together and before long the two started having an affair. Shortly before the building was completed, Ellen discovered she was pregnant. Although very much in love, the young couple had no desire to get married, but they did agree to raise the child together. While both parents had demanding careers, they made every attempt to give their daughter as stable a home as they could provide.  
  
As the years went by, Sam slowly became less interested in his family and more engrossed in his work. His cutting-edge research into DNA mutation had been instrumental in Umbrella's foray into bio-weapons research. He and another brilliant young doctor named William Birkin had introduced the idea of using a viral agent to enhance the physiology of the human body. Umbrella's board of directors were so impressed with the initial research data, they immediately channeled massive amounts of capital to fund the project. They knew the military would most certainly covet such a powerful tool. The concept of an army of super humans, once merely the subject of science fiction novels, could become a reality.  
  
Soon after the two men began their work together, it became apparent that they had different ideas as to what direction their research should follow. While Sam focused on using the body's own chemistry to enhance its physical attributes, William remained convinced that only a virus engineered outside of the body could achieve the necessary physiological mutations they desired. After a series of disagreements, it was decided that the two men would pursue their work separately. Birkin was given his own lab, located in Oregon, while Gleason remained in Ohio and began searching for an assistant.  
  
Robert Lessing's reputation in the field of biochemistry brought him to Sam's attention, and the scientist was eager to recruit him. He was barely out of medical school when Umbrella had vigorously courted him to work alongside their top researcher.  
  
When Robert began working with Sam, he was not completely aware of the true nature of the other man's research. His own focus had been on the regeneration of muscle tissue in the human body, and the senior scientist had encouraged him to pursue it. The two men spent almost all of their time in the lab, working feverishly toward a goal, which Robert had only just begun to comprehend. It wasn't long before he found himself thoroughly immersed in Gleason's single-minded obsession into the alteration of human chemistry.  
  
During the many hours they spent in the lab, Sam had spoken of Ellen and Christina often. Robert could tell the man had some regrets about putting his work above everything else in his life, but he also understood it, being of a similar ilk. Over time, he found himself somewhat envious of the other scientist's ability to have both his family and his work, even if one did suffer because of the other. He had never been very good at maintaining relationships.  
  
After more than four years of study, Sam finally had a major breakthrough. He managed to create a drug that could repair damaged human cell tissue at a remarkable rate. The first test of the new drug had been performed on a man with a broken arm. He was given a small injection directly into the bone marrow and within several days, his arm was completely healed. Both men were overwhelmed with the initial results.  
  
As the research study progressed, Sam was becoming increasingly paranoid about anyone having any knowledge of the drug's capabilities. He was determined to keep the company in the dark about his discovery as long as he could, knowing they would begin manufacturing it before he could complete his testing. When conducting experiments, he would only prepare it in single doses, just enough for one injection. And he made certain that the formula remained where he thought it would be safest, in his head.  
  
Sam had relied on Robert to keep his secret with the understanding that, when the time was right, the junior scientist would be allowed access to the knowledge that his superior kept to himself. Both men agreed that thorough testing was needed to insure that the drug was safe.  
  
But then, fate intervened.  
  
Robert remembered vividly the night of the crash. Ellen had picked Christina up from day care and was heading home after a particularly long and stressful day. A brief storm had moved in and brought a torrent of rain with it. Poor visibility, wet roads and a fatigued driver had been the cause of the accident, according to the police report. The jersey barriers stretched across the median of the highway barely showed signs of distress, but Ellen's car had been completely totaled.  
  
Amazingly, Ellen came through the accident with only a broken leg and a slight concussion. By contrast, Christina's injuries were far more serious. She had a multitude of internal injuries and was not expected to live.  
  
When Sam received the call at the lab, he was so overwrought that Robert had to drive him to the hospital. When they arrived, Ellen was still unconscious and Christina was being prepped for emergency surgery. The doctors and nurses were extremely distressed when Sam refused to allow it, screaming at everyone to leave him alone with his daughter. Although her situation was grave, everyone tried to convince him that surgery was her only hope. Even Robert had tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen. Eventually, they did as he asked and left him alone, holding Christina's tiny hand.  
  
It was considered a miracle when the child regained consciousness less than twenty minutes later.  
  
The hospital staff was stunned at the incredible speed with which the young girl was recovering, and clamored to present a reasonable explanation. Some thought the original diagnosis must have been wrong, but the emergency room doctors insisted that the child was near death. By some strange coincidence, the ER lab tests went missing, which only deepened the mystery. Robert had only to see the expression on Sam's face when he entered Christina's room to know the truth.  
  
They had been preparing for a test in the lab that very evening.  
  
Robert removed the slip of paper from his shirt pocket and stared at it, thoughtfully. He reached out to pick up a lighter from the table and walked over to the sink in the corner of the room. As he watched the flame lick the edges of the paper, he realized that his friend had been right.  
  
Better to keep it in his head.  
  
***  
  
"I don't believe it."  
  
Wesker sighed inwardly. Although initially amused by Carlos Oliviera, the man was beginning to annoy him. "What you choose to believe is of no consequence to me." He removed a small key card from his pocket.  
  
"Why haven't you notified the police?" Leon questioned, as the three men reached the end of the corridor.  
  
"And what would you have me tell them?" Wesker queried. "That a woman we rescued from an evil corporation bent on world domination ran amuck in our secret, underground laboratory?"  
  
Leon wanted to wipe the sarcastic grin off the man's face. "I suppose not."  
  
Carlos shook his head. "Jill isn't a murderer."  
  
Wesker swiped the card through an electronic reader and turned the doorknob. "Tell that to my two dead employees." He motioned for the two men to enter the room.  
  
Leon and Carlos exchanged a knowing look. It was obvious that Wallace was lying to them. The last time they saw Jill she was in no condition to accost anyone. And she most certainly would not have killed someone in cold blood.  
  
As they entered the room, Leon spotted another figure near the opposite wall. A woman was seated with her back to them, gazing through a darkened window. She flipped her long, blonde hair over her left shoulder as she rose from her chair and turned to greet them.  
  
"What the—"  
  
Leon spun around as he heard Carlos' voice, just in time to see the man fall to the floor. Wesker was standing over him with his arm raised, a vicious smile on his face.  
  
"I've been wanting to do that ever since I met him."  
  
Leon immediately swung his fist at the taller man, only to find empty air as his other arm was bent back, painfully, behind him. A large forearm pressed against his windpipe, effectively choking off the curse he was about to utter.  
  
"Be a good boy, Kennedy, and I won't break your fucking neck," Wesker snarled.  
  
Leon continued to struggle, but found he couldn't free himself from the man's vise-like grip. He was beginning to feel lightheaded when another voice interrupted his rapidly clouding thoughts.  
  
"Albert, you promised you wouldn't hurt him."  
  
Albert?  
  
Wesker slackened his grip, slightly, allowing Leon to gasp for air. He finally pulled it away completely. Leon leaned forward and coughed, still trying to catch his breath.  
  
"I promised I wouldn't kill him," Wesker corrected, pushing the other man aside. He walked over and placed a booted foot in the middle of Carlos' back. "But, you didn't say anything about him." The young mercenary didn't move. "He's been a real pain in my ass."  
  
"Later," the blonde chided him. "We have more important business at the moment."  
  
Leon's angry gaze flickered between the two people standing on either side of him before looking down at Carlos. "What the hell is going on here?"  
  
The woman held her hand out to Leon. "I've been looking forward to meeting you, Mr. Kennedy."  
  
Leon stared, incredulously, at her offered hand. "You're kidding, right?" He could sense a shift in her demeanor as she lowered her arm.  
  
"Let's try to be civil, shall we?" She gestured towards a chair near the window. "Please sit down."  
  
Leon hesitated, trying to gauge his chances against his boss. The man had the fastest reflexes he had ever seen, not to mention his amazing strength. Leon had been completely immobilized in a matter of seconds. He knew the man could easily have killed him. An image of Ellen and Jeffrey suddenly popped into his head as he stared back at the man he knew as Andrew Wallace.  
  
"You killed them," he said softly.  
  
Wesker grinned at him before reaching out and placing his hand on the younger man's shoulder, giving him a firm shove.  
  
"Sit down," he ordered.  
  
Leon did as he was told, still trying to comprehend what was happening. His eyes drifted toward the darkened window as a knot began to form in his stomach. His mind kept playing over the name…Albert, and then it struck him. He turned his face up to the man hovering over him.  
  
"Albert Wesker." It was a statement.  
  
Wesker's grin broadened. "You're two for two."  
  
Leon looked over at the woman. "And who the hell are you?"  
  
"Watch your mouth," Wesker warned as he smacked Leon on the back of the head  
  
The blonde regarded him with a chilly gaze. "My name is Alexia Ashford."  
  
Leon stared at her in shock. Claire had told him that Alexia was dead. Chris had killed her…or at least some mutated version. So how could she possibly be here?  
  
"That's impossible," he responded.  
  
Alexia laughed, softly. "Obviously, it's not."  
  
"But, I was…" Leon paused. "I heard you were dead."  
  
"You were misinformed, Mr. Kennedy. By Claire Redfield, no doubt." Alexia watched him, carefully. She didn't know the extent of his relationship with Claire, but if he knew of her supposed demise in Antarctica, than they were closer than she had originally believed. Sherry Birkin was a link between the two, but maybe not the only one.  
  
"I don't know anyone by that name."  
  
Alexia walked over to stand by the window. "Really? I find that odd." She touched a small button on the wall, exposing a control panel. "Because you seem to have a mutual friend." She flipped a switch and the room beyond the window became clearly visible.  
  
Leon rose from his seat, moving slowly, as his eyes focused on a familiar face. His voice was barely a whisper. "Sherry?" He took a step toward Alexia. "If you've hurt—" His threat was cut short as a fist slammed into his jaw. He hit the window and slid to the floor.  
  
"Do that again and I'll kill you."  
  
Leon tasted blood in his mouth and turned his head to spit on the floor before glancing up at Wesker. He rubbed his jaw, gingerly, and climbed to his feet.  
  
"I can assure you that the girl is unharmed." Alexia stared through the glass, watching the two young children. "To be honest, I've been enjoying watching her." She glanced over at Leon. "She's very bright."  
  
Leon clenched his fists as he eyed Wesker, cautiously. Sherry seemed fine, physically, and for that he was grateful. But, that didn't explain what she was doing here. He knew Claire would never have given Sherry up without a fight. Then, the realization hit him. He turned his full attention to Alexia.  
  
"This is about Claire, isn't it?"  
  
The statuesque blonde raised one neatly manicured eyebrow. "So now you're on a first name basis with someone you don't know?"  
  
"Where is she?" Leon demanded.  
  
"Claire Redfield is none of your concern," Alexia stated coolly.  
  
"The hell she isn't!" he shouted. "What did you do to her?"  
  
Alexia pinned him with her sharp gaze.  
  
"At the moment, I think you should be more concerned about the child," she responded.  
  
Leon felt helpless as he turned back to the window again. He suddenly noticed there was another child in the room. Although he couldn't hear them talking, he immediately recognized the animated expression on Sherry's face. A subtle grin touched his lips as he watched her, knowing she was probably trying to convince the younger girl to help her engineer an escape. She had more fortitude than Leon did at her age, even more than he had now, and he knew where she drew a lot of that strength…  
  
…from Claire.  
  
He closed his eyes for a moment as his mind conjured up an image of Claire's face. Unfortunately, their reunion had been short-lived, and most of their time had revolved around the situation with Jill's father. There had been so much he wanted to tell her; so much he wanted to know about her. They had only managed a few precious moments alone, and he had finally coaxed her into telling him some of what happened to her while she was gone, but he knew she was holding something back. He could see it in her eyes. Those beautiful, soulful, compelling eyes…  
  
God, how he loved them.  
  
Her.  
  
Leon opened his eyes, seeing a faint trace of his own reflection staring back at him. How could he save them both? He didn't know Claire's whereabouts, or if she was even still alive, for that matter. Still there was something in the way Alexia spoke of her that made him believe that she was. And if so, then she most certainly would be here. For now, he decided the priority had to be Sherry. He knew Claire would agree with him. He looked over to find Alexia still staring at him.  
  
"What do you want me to do?" he asked.  
  
***  
  
Claire lifted her head up, slowly, only to discover that doing so made her headache even worse.  
  
"Shit."  
  
She decided to lie back down and assess her situation from the prone position. When she regained consciousness the first time, she could do little more than look at the ceiling. Now, she was completely awake, and had the blinding pain to prove it.  
  
Taking a cursory look around the room, she was surprised to find it completely devoid of anything. No furniture, no torture devices, no people. Not exactly what she had expected to see when she awoke. Of course, she hadn't really been expecting to wake up, so that was a plus.  
  
The room itself was brightly lit, which was only adding to Claire's misery. Feeling the cold, tiled floor under her back, she shifted onto her side to get a better view. With her ear pressed to the floor, she could hear a faint humming noise. The sound began to lull her as she lay there listening, the pounding of her headache fading with each passing moment.  
  
"Claire."  
  
The voice echoed, loudly, causing Claire to sit up too quickly. She made an involuntary sound as a sharp pain pierced through her head. Gripping her forehead with one hand, she used the other to push herself onto her knees.  
  
"Take your time. I'm sure you must have a rather nasty headache."  
  
Alexia.  
  
The intercom's volume was turned up to an annoying level.  
  
"So much for 'no torture devices'," Claire muttered, as she climbed to her feet.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
A touch of feedback made Claire wince.  
  
"Where's Sherry?" she called out, not really sure where to direct her voice.  
  
"I think a more important question is…where are you?"  
  
Claire looked around trying to locate a door. The walls appeared to have the same tiling as the floor. Everything was black and white, reminding her of a chessboard. A series of large light fixtures hung down from the vaulted ceiling.  
  
"Just tell me if she's okay!" Claire shouted in frustration.  
  
"My dear Claire," Alexia continued, ignoring her request. "I'm about to give you a rare opportunity."  
  
The decibel level was beginning to make Claire's head pound…again.  
  
"Alexia…" she growled.  
  
"I think you've made some poor choices in your life, Claire." More feedback. "Now, it's time to examine yourself more closely."  
  
Claire clenched her fists, tightly. This crazy bitch was playing a game with her, and she refused to go along with it. She was about to offer a scathing retort when something caught her attention.  
  
The humming had gotten louder.  
  
The noise she had only been able to hear while lying on the floor was now growing steadily. She had been so focused on Alexia that she hadn't noticed it. Now, as she listened, closely, the floor began to vibrate.  
  
"What the hell is that?" She looked around frantically, scanning the room for signs of a way out. Instinctively, she trotted over to the nearest wall and began running her hands along the cool surface in an effort to locate an opening. The pattern of the tile made it almost impossible to find, which was obviously the intent.  
  
A peculiar grating sound made Claire turn to look at the center of the room. She watched with a mixture of fear and fascination as a small section of the floor began to rise. As the platform climbed higher, her eyes fixed on what was coming up beneath it; a large rectangular container, possibly made of glass. It reminded her of a coffin.  
  
She immediately shook off that thought and waited until everything stopped moving. From her position near the wall, she was too far away to see what was inside, not that she wanted to anyway. Her heart was beating wildly as she imagined some horrible creature would burst forth from it and attack her. She stood perfectly still for several minutes, her muscles tense with anticipation.  
  
Nothing.  
  
"Aren't you curious?" Alexia's voice cut through the silence, giving Claire a start.  
  
"To see another mutated Ashford?" the brunette asked, keeping her gaze fixed on the large object. "I'll pass."  
  
"Sarcasm. Another poor choice, Claire. But, not to worry. We'll just add it to the long list of your character defects that I'm going to correct."  
  
"Correct this, you psycho." Claire made an obscene gesture and spun around, resuming her hunt for a doorway. As she moved along the wall, she continued to glance over her shoulder at the center of the room. She picked up her pace, knowing she was running out of time.  
  
Something flashed out of the corner of her eye.  
  
Claire looked over to see a light had turned on above the container. The interior was still bathed in shadow, but there was just enough backlight to illuminate its contents…  
  
A silhouette.  
  
"Oh Jesus," Claire breathed.  
  
She knew this was it. There was nowhere to run. She had no weapons at her disposal. Her brother was not going to rush in and save her. She would have to face whatever Alexia had in store for her, alone. But, she would not do it quietly.  
  
"Whatever it is your planning, Alexia, just get on with it," Claire challenged, trying to add a touch of bravado she didn't feel.  
  
Silence.  
  
"Alexia!" she shouted toward the ceiling. A loud clicking noise made Claire jump. It had come from the container. Her midnight blue eyes focused on it once more. The suspense was driving her crazy. She knew that was exactly what Alexia wanted.  
  
Before she even realized what she was doing, Claire had already taken several steps toward the center of the room. As she drew closer, she could see that whatever was inside appeared to be no larger than she was. Her curiosity finally overrode her common sense and she suddenly found herself standing only a few feet away. As she tried to peer through the darkened glass, she noticed one of the panels was slightly ajar. She stepped forward, cautiously, reaching out to pull it open. As her hand moved the glass panel aside, she froze.  
  
"No," she whispered.  
  
Claire Redfield found herself staring at her own face.  
  
***  
  
Well, I bet you saw that one coming! Man, this has to be the longest I've ever gone between updates. Wouldn't it be nice if we could spend our time doing the things we want to do, instead of the things we must do? Responsibilities really suck, sometimes. To anyone who might still be reading, I sincerely apologize for the delay…AGAIN! But, hang in there, people. I will get there. To be honest, I'm already thinking of a sequel (I'll just duck under my desk until everyone is done throwing their keyboards). And before anyone gives me any grief about self-insertion, I just want to say that I am not a scientist. ;-) That should be obvious by my lame attempt to explain anything related to human biology. Remember: it's not called fiction for nothin'. Later, folks. 


	18. Follow The Leader

Sacrifices 

****

Chapter 18: Follow the Leader

It was her.

Her hair…her skin…her eyes.

But, it all belonged to someone else.

A mirror image.

Another Claire.

Claire Redfield stood perfectly still, unable to breathe, unwilling to move, as if to do so would somehow awaken her doppelganger. If she had to watch it come to life, she thought she might go insane. The eyes were staring forward, glazed and unfocused, leaving her to try and convince herself that the figure was inanimate.

Until it blinked.

That single motion snapped Claire out of her own trance-like state, and she immediately stepped back, a soft gasp escaping from her lips.

"As you can see, she is very much alive." 

Claire jumped, slightly, at the sudden sound. Hearing Alexia's voice pulled her back from the edge of her own sanity, and made her realize just how close she had come to going over it. For the moment, she needed to focus on something, anything that would help her to keep it together. 

In an attempt to respond, the young brunette managed to raise her hand and point at the abomination before her. "Who…Who is that?"

"She is you."

Claire shook her head. "No."

"Yes, Claire. She is the 'flesh of your flesh'. A perfect copy."

"That's impossible!" Claire yelled, her denial giving strength to her voice.

"The evidence exists right before your very eyes," Alexia taunted. "Feel free to get a closer look, if you need to be convinced."

Claire's head was spinning as she tried to understand what it was she was looking at. She knew what Alexia wanted her to believe, but it was inconceivable. In spite of all the incredible things the young woman had seen, this was beyond her comprehension.

Perhaps it was the result of plastic surgery. Or maybe Alexia had managed to find someone who bore an uncanny resemblance to her. Either of those possibilities were preferable to the one that continued to gnaw at the back of her mind.

_'I was never in the Antarctic.'_

Alexia's earlier statement played over and over in her thoughts as Claire fought to keep herself from panicking. If that person, or whatever it was that she and Chris had encountered in that snowy hellhole, wasn't Alexia, than who was it?

All of the evidence pointed to it being Alfred's twin sister. But, Claire had been fooled back on Rockfort Island, hadn't she? It had appeared as though both siblings were residing in that godforsaken place when, in fact, it had all been a sick, twisted fantasy conjured up by Alfred's deluded mind. His bizarre role-playing had certainly made her and Steve believe in Alexia's existence. 

Could it have been Alfred all along? 

Claire gave her head a mental shake. No. That couldn't be it. She had watched Alfred fall to his death. And Chris told her that he had found the man's lifeless body during his search for her. But, there was something about that last detail that was nagging at her…something about where he found him.

A capsule? Wasn't that what Chris had told her?

In one single moment of frightening clarity, her brother's words came rushing back to her. While combing the labs in search of clues, Chris had triggered some kind of mechanism, which caused a large cylindrical object to rise from the floor. It was in that glass capsule that he had discovered the corpse of Alfred Ashford. 

That left two unanswered questions: What was the capsule for? And how did Alfred get inside?

Claire decided that she really didn't want to know.

"You're awfully quiet." There was a hint of amusement in Alexia's voice. Clearly, the woman was enjoying herself.

"Who was that in the Antarctic?" Claire asked, reluctantly. She placed a hand on her chest, feeling the beat of her heart as it steadily increased. 

"Flesh of my flesh, Claire."

Claire swallowed hard. "A…clone?"

"Exactly."

"How did he-"

"A DNA sample, obtained when you first arrived on the island." Alexia's tone turned wistful. "My brother was a genius. It was unfortunate that he was also completely mad, but I always thought that was part of his charm."

Claire felt a shiver run up her spine. It was obvious that insanity ran in the Ashford family.

"I felt it necessary to remove him as head of the family business. He was far too flamboyant and reckless with his power. I had hoped that the island would give him the freedom to explore some of his more elaborate ideas, but even I underestimated him."

Anger began to churn in Claire's gut, which was infinitely more preferable to the fear she had been feeling thus far, so she decided to hold onto it. "His 'elaborate ideas', as you so delicately put it, included torture and murder!" An image of Steve filled her mind, as she felt the all too familiar sting of tears in her eyes. She shook her head to stop herself. She would not allow herself to mourn in front of this woman. "He was the sickest son of a bitch I have ever met, Alexia. My only regret is that I didn't end his miserable existence a lot sooner!" 

"YOU MURDERER!" Alexia's shriek echoed through the room, causing Claire to place her hands over her ears. She tensed, expecting her tormentor to emerge at any moment, filled with homicidal rage and ready to strike her down. But, as the minutes ticked by, it became apparent that whatever Alexia was planning for her, she was going to be kept waiting a while longer.

The brunette's gaze wandered the room in a futile search for a way out, only to be drawn in, once again, by her double. She stepped closer, narrowing her eyes as she studied the face that looked back at her. 

"Why did Alexia do this?" Claire muttered, expelling a heavy sigh.

"Chris…"

Claire's eyes flew open. "What?" She watched in shocked fascination as her twin's lips parted, hesitantly, as if using them for the first time. 

"Chris, save me."

"Oh my God," Claire spoke softly, cupping her own mouth with shaking hands as she finally understood. She knew Alexia wanted revenge for her brother's death. But, she would not get it by killing Claire. She was going to kill Claire's brother…

…and use Claire to do it.

                                                           ***

Chris leaned back against the railing, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. He shifted his arm, slightly, feeling the butt of his gun poking into his side. As of late, the rather large weapon had become his constant companion. Although he felt safer with it, it also served to remind him that he could never let his guard down. He was always in a state of perpetual readiness, and becoming extremely weary of it. 

His thoughts returned to his current situation. Once again, he and the others had packed their gear and pulled up stakes, moving to a dingy motor lodge near the freeway. Barry decided to take a ride by the HCF building, just to make certain that the police had been alerted of Wesker's location. The rest of the group had been busy trying to help Chris remain optimistic, but he knew his sister better than they did. 

Claire would never have gone off without finding a way to reach him, even if Leon had needed her help in some way. The note was another sign that the girls had run into some trouble. The fact that it appeared to be Leon that left that note was the most confusing aspect of all of this. Chris had come to trust him, even though they'd only met recently. Leon had been instrumental in helping Chris find Claire when she had been captured by Umbrella, and he stuck by the group during the whole mess with Jill and Dick.

It was also very obvious that his sister had developed strong feelings for Leon, and after seeing them together, Chris had been fairly convinced that the feeling was mutual. It seemed impossible to him that Leon would betray his sister. But, unfortunately, he knew that people could turn on you. He had learned that lesson the hard way. He just hoped his sister wasn't finding that out, as well.

Chris felt an overwhelming sense of anger grip him and he stepped forward, slamming his fist against the railing post. The old wood splintered under the impact, causing several jagged pieces to cut into his skin. His vision blurred as he looked down, uncurling his fingers to watch the blood that was now running down the back of his hand. 

"Where are you, Claire?" he whispered.

Chris felt something warm and soft caress his arm. He turned, slowly, following the soft touch as it moved along his skin, seeking out his injured hand. His gaze continued to wander, finally locking on a pair of dark eyes.

"You're supposed to be resting," he scolded.

Jill frowned as she lifted his hand up to the porch light. "I can't sleep." She began to remove some of the bits of wood from his knuckles. "You have a couple of nasty cuts here."

Chris pulled his hand away. "It's fine." He reached into his pocket and removed an old, worn bandana. He looked at Jill, thoughtfully, as he wound the rag around his hand. "And I didn't say anything about sleeping. You've been through a lot in the last week, and you need to give your body some time to heal."

"I'm okay," she stated firmly. The pair stared at each other in silence for several moments. Jill turned to sit in one of the old plastic chairs that decorated the tiny porch, wincing as a sharp pain gripped her side. She held a hand up as she saw Chris coming to her aid. "I said I'm okay."

Chris sighed and shook his head, ruefully. "What a pair we are." He watched Jill as she seated herself, one hand pressed against her side. He grabbed the other chair and placed it next to her, taking her free hand in his as he sat down. "Let's make a deal, Valentine."

"What kind of deal?" she asked as she idly rubbed the coarse fabric of his makeshift bandage with her thumb.

"I'll admit that I don't know what the hell I'm doing, if you'll admit that you're not indestructible."

Jill looked at him, sharply. "I never thought I was."

"Bullshit."

"Chris, I don't know what you're talking about." She could feel him tightening his grip on her hand. "If this is about what happened with my father-"

"This goes back a lot further than that, and you know it," he interrupted in a low, serious tone. "You've always taken way too many risks."

"Look who's talking," Jill remarked. "And risk is a part of the job, after all."

"True," Chris replied, nodding in agreement. "But, we both know you had a proclivity for taking risks long before you were ever on the job. Becoming a cop just gave you a more constructive outlet for it." He paused for a moment, a pensive smile forming on his face. "Rico didn't give you the nickname 'Superstar' for nothing, you know."

Jill turned away from Chris, staring unfocused at the myriad of lights moving out on the freeway. It had been quite a while since she'd heard that word. Enrico had coined it after a rather hairy rescue mission in the Arcklay Mountains, and Jill had immediately hated it.

She hadn't been with the squad for more than a few weeks when she and Enrico had to scale down a cliff face to rescue a climber who had slipped off the rock, only to get hung up in his own lines. Having fallen from more than one hundred and twenty feet, the guy broke his leg, making rescue a very slow and difficult process. While moving down to get him, one of Enrico's lines snapped, and Jill had barely managed to get a hand on his pack before he plummeted to the ground some 400 feet below. She hung upside down and held onto him as he secured another line. After managing to save themselves, as well as the man they had originally set out to rescue, Jill had calmly recited the virtues of a secondary line to Enrico. He responded by tagging her with that nickname. She had always just assumed it was born out of sarcasm as a way to heal his bruised ego over having his butt saved by a rookie. 

It wasn't until her promotion to the Alpha Team that she realized it was his odd way of showing his gratitude to her for saving his life. It was signalling a growing affection he was developing for her, as well. The day she found out about her transfer, he had given her a tiny pin with the word engraved on it. Although she never let on to him how much it meant to her, she had pinned it to the inside of her beret as a good luck charm. 

Now that Enrico was gone, hearing that nickname again filled her with sadness. And anger. She wondered what he would have to say about the fact that she had shown his killer some mercy today.

So much for being a 'Superstar'. 

"I should have killed him."

Chris sighed, inwardly, as he reached his free hand under Jill's chin, turning her face toward him. He could see the anguish in her eyes. "You're not a murderer, Jill."

"Would you have done it?" she questioned.

"I—" A soft sound interrupted him. It took him a few seconds to realize it was his cell phone. He released Jill's hand as he jumped to his feet and pulled the phone from his pocket. "Yeah?"

"Chris, it's Leon. I need to speak with you, right away. Just you. If you're not alone, say it's a wrong number and I'll hold on until you can get away."

"Wrong number," Chris replied without hesitation. He jammed the phone back into his pocket and glanced down at Jill, seeing the look of disappointment on her face. He wanted to tell her, but Leon's instructions were very specific. He thought it best to hear what the man had to say first, as it was almost certainly about Claire and Sherry.

Jill gave him a sympathetic look. "We'll find them, Chris." 

"I know," he responded, their interrupted conversation all but forgotten. "I'm gonna take a walk over to the office and see what's in the vending machines." He was trying his best to act casual, hoping Jill wouldn't see the anxiety he was feeling. "You want anything?"

"Umm, a root beer, I guess," she answered slowly. 

"You got it." Chris stepped off the porch and turned his back on her as he made his way between some parked cars. "I'll be back in a minute." With a wave of his hand, he disappeared around the corner of the next building.

Jill continued to stare after him for several minutes, pondering his sudden change in demeanor. What had just happened? One minute they were having an intense discussion, and the next, Chris decides he wants a candy bar? Of course, she knew he was very upset about Claire and Sherry's disappearance, and it was possible that he may have just been trying to hide his disappointment over the phone call, but…

"But, what are the odds that that call was a wrong number?" she spoke aloud. As if in answer to her question, she heard a vehicle start up nearby. Jill jumped up from her seat, ignoring her body's protests at the sudden movement, and headed toward their van, only to see it pulling away.

"Chris!" Jill hollered, jarring her foot painfully as she made a mad dash across the gravel. She only succeeded in banging the back door with her hand before it picked up speed and moved out of her reach. "Chris, goddammit!" she shouted in frustration as the van barreled through the parking lot. 

Another loud sound caught Jill's attention and she stopped in mid-stride. A motorcycle was pulling into a parking space a few doors down from where she stood. She took a quick glance back at the van, seeing it heading out of the lot and onto the freeway. Her decision was made in an instant as she pulled her gun from its holster. She approached the man who was still sitting on the bike with the engine running.

"Get off the bike!" Jill ordered as she raised her gun.

The young man didn't even turn in her direction before answering, "Fuck off." As he glanced over his shoulder, he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

"Now!"

The man gaped at her as he put his hands in the air. "Holy shit!" He quickly climbed off the back of the bike and took a few steps back, still holding his hands aloft. "Take it easy, lady!" 

Jill swung her leg over and grabbed the throttle as she shoved her gun back into its holster. She reached a hand up and squeezed the clutch before proceeding to tear up the gravel as she roared off, hoping to catch up to Chris. As she pulled away she shouted back at the man whose bike she had just commandeered, "Sorry, but it's an emergency!"

"Great." The man muttered to himself as he stood there shaking his head. "Just fucking great."

                                                           ***

Rebecca rolled onto her back, dropping her book to the bed as she stretched her legs. She had been trying, unsuccessfully, to occupy her mind with something other than the current mess her life was in, but after reading the same paragraph more than four times she decided it was time to do something else. She got to her feet and headed for the bathroom. As she stood in front of the sink splashing some cool water on her face, a noise caught her attention.

Jill.

Rebecca ran for the door, fear squeezing her gut as she rushed out to the porch with her gun at the ready, only to find it unoccupied. She caught sight of the van exiting the parking lot, just as another shout drew her attention to a commotion on her right. She watched in disbelief as Jill climbed onto the back of a motorcycle and sped away, obviously in pursuit of the van.

"What's going on?" The young medic turned to see Dick standing in the doorway of the next room, one hand holding a gun, the other holding a towel around his waist. He caught a glimpse of a figure on a motorcycle, a figure that looked suspiciously like his daughter. He turned to Rebecca; the look of shock on her face was evident. "Was that Jill?"

"Yeah," Rebecca answered as she removed her cell phone from her pocket. She pressed her speed dial, praying that Chris would answer.

Dick watched as Jill disappeared onto the freeway, where she was promptly swallowed up by the busy evening traffic. "Where the hell is she going?"

"I think she went after Chris."

"Chris?" Dick immediately took notice of the missing vehicle. "Where did he go?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "But, he's not answering his phone." She listened to a few more rings before hitting another set of buttons in an attempt to contact Jill. "I'm trying Jill now, but she's probably too busy driving to talk."

"Jesus H. Christ," Dick muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. "Is she out of her mind? What does that kid think she's doing?" His gaze came to rest on a man stomping across the parking. Dick's best guess was that he was the person who's motorcycle his daughter had just stolen, and judging from his determined look, was now on his way to the office to report the theft. He glanced over at Rebecca as he jerked his thumb toward the man. "We better head that guy off at the pass. The last thing Jill needs is the friggin' cops chasing after her." He quickly shot her an apologetic look. "No offense."

"It's okay, Dick," Rebecca offered, giving him a weak smile. "I'm not getting any answer from Jill, either." She was still holding the phone to her ear as the irate bike owner passed by them. "You're right about him, though. Got any suggestions?"

Dick narrowed his dark eyes at her. "Got any money?"

                                                           ***

"He's on his way."

Wesker smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "Good job, Kennedy." 

"You'd better keep your end of the bargain," Leon warned, his blue eyes burning with undisguised hatred.  

The blonde man nodded. "Of course. Besides, after this, you and the girl won't be of any use to me. You'll be free to go wherever you want."

"What's your interest in Redfield, anyway?" Leon questioned. 

"None of your business," Wesker stated. "Now, you'd better get ready to go." He got up from his chair and reached into his desk drawer. "You'll be needing this." He handed Leon a gun.

The younger man took it and released the clip, hoping for a miracle. It was empty. "No ammo?"

Wesker laughed. "You're a funny guy, Kennedy, you know that?" His expression turned serious. "You won't need it. Redfield won't give you any trouble."

"You're so sure of that, are you?"

"I am. I've known him for quite a while." Wesker smirked. "He's chivalrous and stupid...the perfect combination."

"Being concerned for his sister doesn't make him stupid," Leon retorted, thinking about his own plight.

"No," Wesker agreed. "But, it does make him vulnerable." He walked around the desk and headed toward the door, motioning for Leon to follow. "That's the problem with relationships, Kennedy. They can be exploited." He stopped and turned to look at Leon, removing his sunglasses as a grim smile formed on his face. "Lucky for me."

Leon stared, his eyes widening in shock, as he got his first look at Wesker's cat-like eyes. He felt the breath flee from his lungs as he continued to gaze at the blood red irises. He found himself unable to turn away, hypnotized by their subtle glow. 

He recalled a brief conversation he had with Chris just prior to leaving the group to come to Los Angeles. Although, Wesker's enhanced physical prowess had been a topic of that discussion, Claire's brother had never mentioned anything about the man's eyes.       

Wesker put his glasses back on, breaking the spell. "Let's go." He walked out the door, leaving Leon standing alone, shocked by what he had just seen, and suddenly fearful that that things were about to go from bad to worse.

                                                           ***

Barry pressed his back against the wall, trying to keep his large frame out of the glare of the streetlight. He had been standing in the dark for almost ten minutes, debating with himself over his next course of action.

The first thing he'd noticed upon his arrival was the lack of activity outside. There were some security patrols stationed here and there, but nothing else. No police. Not even a sign that they had been there. 

Barry's face was grim as he reached for his cell phone. He was not looking forward to telling his friends the bad news…especially Jill. He knew that she had left Wesker, reluctantly, in the hands of the young man who had saved her. He also knew that if the authorities were nowhere to be seen, it meant that same young man was probably dead by now.

He paused for a moment as he spotted two figures emerging from a small doorway near the left corner of the building. It was too dark to make out their features, so he waited until they moved closer to the overhead lights near the parking area. As they passed underneath the yellow floodlights, he had a clear view of their faces.

"Wesker, you slimy little bastard," Barry whispered through clenched teeth. He was not surprised to see his former captain, but the second person was a bit of a shock. 

It was Leon Kennedy.

Barry sighed to himself. "I guess you were right, Chris." Without hesitation, he took a step back away from the fence and pulled his gun out in one smooth motion, confident that he could hit both men from where he stood. He hefted the large weapon in his hand and focused it on his target, closing one eye in order to improve his aim. Then, he began to squeeze the trigger…

…until his cell phone began to vibrate.

He dropped his hand immediately, realizing that he was about to kill the only two people who could lead him to Claire and Sherry.

"Shit," Barry cursed softly as he reached into his vest pocket, groping for the phone. His hand closed around it as he continued to watch the scene playing out nearby. Wesker and Kennedy conversed briefly, and then Wesker turned and headed back toward the building. He watched in frustration as the man disappeared behind the door he had emerged from earlier.

Barry shifted his focus back to Leon, just in time to see him climbing into the passenger seat of an awaiting car. With two choices available to him, Barry decided to follow Leon. He watched the car leave through a gate at the opposite side of the parking lot.

As he ran back to his own vehicle, he finally answered his phone. "What?"

"Barry, thank god…" 

"Rebecca?" Even over the phone he could hear the tension in her voice. "What's wrong?"

"It took you so long to answer, I thought something may have happened to you, too."

Barry slipped behind the wheel and turned the ignition. He threw the car in gear and scanned the intersection ahead of him, watching for the other vehicle. He could feel the familiar tightening in his chest as he asked, "What's happened?"

"I'm not really sure," the young woman paused. "Chris and Jill took off."

Barry spotted the car as it drove past him. "Took off? Took off where?"

"I don't know. Dick and I were both in our rooms. I heard some commotion outside, but when I came out, the van was pulling out of the parking lot. I'm assuming Chris was driving, but I can't be certain."

"And Jill was with him?" Barry questioned as he began his pursuit at a discreet distance.

"Ah, no." Rebecca sounded a bit distracted. "She stole some guy's motorcycle and went after him."

Barry's hand jerked the wheel, violently. "She what?" He steadied himself, desperate to keep the other car in his sights. "Did you try calling them?"

Rebecca sighed, loudly. "Of course, I did. Neither of them answered. Can you get back here?"

"Actually, I may have a lead." He could hear a voice speaking to Rebecca in the background and assumed it was Dick. She replied something but Barry couldn't make it out. 

"What kind of lead?" she questioned, once again giving Barry her full attention.

"I found Leon."

"That's great!" Rebecca practically shouted. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he seems fine," Barry responded. "Except for the company he's keeping."

There was silence on the other end. 

"Rebecca?"

"Don't tell me," she uttered softly.

"Wesker's still on the prowl. And if Leon's helping him, than he must have had something to do with the girls disappearance." Barry continued to take a series of turns, attempting to keep the other vehicle in his line of vision.

"How could Leon hook up with Wesker?" the young medic asked, miserably. "How could he do that, Barry?"

"Maybe the same way I did," came the grim response. Despite the evidence, Barry didn't want to believe that Leon would willingly betray them all. He felt as though he should give the rookie cop the benefit of the doubt. After all, Barry had once been Wesker's unwilling accomplice, and he considered himself very fortunate that his friends had stuck by him, in spite of his betrayal.

"Barry, you have to stop blaming…" Rebecca's words got cut off as Barry heard Dick arguing in the background. "Hold on," she said, quickly. "Dick wants to talk to you."   

"Barry." Now Dick's voice sounded on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, Dick?"

"Where are you?"

Barry blew out a breath. "Truthfully, I have no idea. Leon just left HCF, so I thought I'd better follow him. Maybe he'll lead me to the girls."

"Or maybe the girls are at HCF."

"Maybe," Barry answered slowly. "Wesker is still there, but my instincts told me to follow Leon."

"Well, my instincts tell me that that bastard has something to do with why my daughter just took off from here like a bat out of hell!" Dick replied angrily. 

"Dick, I don't think you should—"

"No offense, Barry, but I don't care what you think."

Barry growled in frustration as the connection went dead.

"Great," he muttered, throwing his phone onto the passenger seat. "Just fucking great."

                                                           ***

"I can leave here whenever I want."

"Then why don't you?" Sherry asked, staring at Christina in astonishment.

"Because my Mom told me not to," the young girl replied simply.

Sherry shook her head, vigorously. "That makes no sense. Why would your Mother want you to stay here?"

Christina lifted her gaze from the coloring book in her lap. "Because."

"Because, why?"

The young girl shrugged her shoulders. "Just because."

Sherry sighed in frustration. She was getting nowhere, fast. Her roommate was being evasive, and she wasn't much of a conversationalist, either. The blonde flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. 

She had spent the better part of the last hour trying to pry whatever information she could from the child, but had only managed to find out the most basic facts. And nothing she had learned so far was going to help her get out of this mess. She was also getting desperate to find out what had become of Claire.  

Sherry sat up and eyed the girl, wearily. "Can you tell me how to get out of here?"

"You're not fast enough," Christina replied, casually.

"What?"

"You're not fast enough," the child repeated with a note of impatience.

"How do you know?" Sherry responded, hotly. She had no idea what the little girl meant by that, but her nerves were reaching a breaking point and she was beginning to feel argumentative.

The tiny brunette smiled, mischievously. "Because, I'm the only one who can do it."

"Do what?" Sherry practically shouted as she smacked the palms of her hands against the mattress.

Christina picked her head up and pinned the older girl with her emerald eyes. 'Get past the guards' she mouthed, slowly.   

The blonde looked at her with uncertainty. 'How?' she mouthed in return.

'Watch' came the child's response.

Sherry stared at her with a puzzled expression as Christina stood up from her chair and placed the coloring book back on the desk. The girl walked around the empty seat and gripped it firmly from the back. She lifted it high above her head, and in one swift motion, brought it crashing down on top of the desk, causing Sherry to jump up from her seat.

Christina continued to use the chair as a battering ram as the desk began to come apart, spilling its contents to the floor. One of the chair's legs went slicing through the air, causing Sherry to duck, more out of reflex than to avoid any real danger. 

The chair was now in pieces, most of which had scattered to different corners of the room with each blow Christina continued to deliver. The girl's expression was one of fury, although Sherry couldn't be sure if it was authentic or just part of the girl's bizarre demonstration.

The sound of a lock being disengaged brought Sherry's attention to the door. She took a step back, her eyes focused on the two people entering the room. The first person was a woman, dressed in some kind of generic security guard's uniform. Sherry immediately took note of the gun she wore on her belt. Right behind her came a second person, a man in a white coat. The blonde felt some modicum of relief at the absence of any Umbrella logos, although given the fact that she was still being held against her will, that seemed almost ludicrous.

The two adults made eye contact, briefly, upon entering the room, and Sherry got the distinct impression that some silent understanding had passed between them. The woman immediately made her way to Christina, while the man stayed near the open doorway, effectively blocking any path Sherry may have wanted to take. Neither of them even acknowledged her presence. She turned to issue a warning to Christina, but even as the words fell from her lips…

…the other girl disappeared right before her very eyes. 

She stared in bewilderment as the guard's head whipped around, trying to locate the child. A sudden tap on her shoulder made Sherry jump. She spun around; her mouth dropped open in shock as she saw that the little girl kneeling on the bed behind her.

Christina smiled at Sherry. "Told ya, I was fast." 

"W…Wh…" Sherry stammered. 

"Christina."

The authoritarian voice caused both girls to turn their heads. The security guard was moving swiftly toward them. Christina shot a quick glance at Sherry, trying to will the girl into action. Sherry caught the child's eyes and nodded in understanding. The girl was providing her with a diversion, and she wasn't about to waste it.

Sherry watched in astonishment as Christina disappeared again.

The guard pulled something from her belt, causing Sherry to freeze for a moment, until she realized it was only a small can. The woman placed some type of mask over her face as she tossed the object toward the middle of the room, continuing to look around for her charge. The man in the doorway followed suit as he reached a hand up to put his own mask in place. There was a loud popping noise as the room began to fill with smoke. 

That was the opening Sherry needed.

She bolted toward the door, snatching up a piece of the broken chair as she went, and swung it with all her might. The man was taken completely by surprise, and caught the blow against his kneecap. As he howled in pain, Sherry used the momentary distraction to push him off balance, sending him crashing into the door and thereby leaving the threshold vacant. Without a second thought, she stepped out of the room.

And then, Sherry Birkin ran for her life.

                                                           ***

Well, well, well. What do we have here? An update? OMG. Okay, okay. It's been a LONG time, I admit it. Anyway, things are really starting to heat up now. I'm not going to say when the next update will come, but I will do my best to get it out asap. And do me a favor, huh? Leave some reviews so I know people are still reading. It will inspire me. ^_^ Later, folks.   


	19. The Turning Point

Sacrifices 

****

Chapter 19: The Turning Point

_Alexia Ashford…_

_Why was she here?_

_Or was that just a dream?_

"Aw, crap."

Carlos opened his eyes. The large man to his left carrying the even larger rifle was enough to confirm his suspicions. It wasn't a dream, after all.

It was a nightmare.

The young mercenary propped himself up on his left arm, wincing at the pain his movement caused. He touched the back of his head, feeling a lump the size of a baseball.

"You'd be smarter to stay down."

Carlos looked up at the guard and flashed a grin. "If I was smarter, I wouldn't be here."

The guard's smile was almost imperceptible, but Carlos noticed it. That helped him to relax a bit. If the guy could smile at his joke, then he probably wasn't about to kill him. At least that's what Carlos hoped.

He decided to better acquaint himself with his new surroundings. If any opportunity arose for him to take action, he wanted to be ready. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to look at. His temporary jail cell appeared to be a locker room. The walls were lined with metal cabinets, and there were benches on either side of the small room. 

There wasn't anything he could use as a weapon. He thought it remotely possible that one of the lockers might contain something useful, but he doubted the guard would leave him alone to investigate that option. At this point, he had to be content to sit and wait.

His thoughts wandered back to Alexia Ashford. He had recognized her immediately, which was probably the reason that asshole had whacked him on the head. He didn't understand what her connection was to HCF, when you stopped to consider that they were supposed to be Umbrella's competition.

There were other pieces to this puzzle, as well. What had happened to Leon? Why wasn't he locked up in here with him? Did he know Alexia? And why did Alexia have her Umbrella goons grab Jill in New York, only to allow her to be snatched up by Larry's people and brought to L.A.? What the hell was going on?

Carlos fixed his gaze on the guard. He had sized the man up in the first few seconds after he regained consciousness, and was relatively certain he could take him out without too much trouble, if he were given the right opportunity. For now, he would just try to pump him for information. 

"How long was I out?"

The guard gave him a somewhat bored expression. "I don't know."

Carlos frowned at him. "Well, how long have you been guarding me?"

"A couple of hours," came the brief response.

"Have you seen Wallace?" He crossed his fingers, knowing it would be better if no one knew he was awake yet. 

"No."

He was about to ask another question when someone began shouting on the other side of the door. The guard did a quick half-turn and raised his gun, taking his eyes off of his prisoner as he reached for the door handle.

Carlos reacted immediately and jumped to his feet. He moved with incredible speed, slamming his body into the guard and bringing them both to the floor. The two men began wrestling for the rifle, but Carlos quickly gained the upper hand. In one swift motion, he brought the butt of the gun down against the side of the guard's head, effectively knocking him unconscious. 

He pushed the limp form aside and scrambled to his feet. With a quick check of the weapon in his hands, he grabbed the door and yanked it open. As he emerged, a guard passed by him, apparently in pursuit of someone else. 

Carlos glanced down the hall, just in time to see two small figures turning the corner and disappearing from view. 

They looked like children. 

"What the hell?" Carlos muttered. He shrugged his shoulders and ran up behind the guard as she was closing in on her quarry. He swung the rifle in a viscous arc, smacking her on the back of the head. She fell to the floor and didn't move. After a quick look behind him revealed an empty corridor, he stepped over the body and started after them himself.

The two figures were halfway down the next corridor when Carlos spotted them. He realized they were two young girls. "Hey…wait!"

One of them looked over her shoulder, nearly falling as she came to a halt. "Carlos?"

Carlos peered at her, closely. "Sherry?" He could see the relief wash over her.

"Thank God!" She called back to the other girl. "Christina!" The other child stopped running and turned to look back. Sherry pointed to Carlos. "He's here to help."

Carlos regarded the young blonde with a look of surprise. "I am?"

Sherry tilted her head, slightly, noticing his confused expression. "Didn't you come to rescue me…er…us?" She held a hand out toward the younger girl, who came forward to stand beside her.

As Carlos approached, Christina eyed him with a look of mistrust, while ignoring Sherry's offered hand. She folded her arms across her chest and stuck her chin out. "Who are you?" 

"Carlos Oliveira, at your service." He bowed lavishly, eliciting a giggle from the dark haired girl. 

"Your funny," Christina remarked.

"Carlos, what are you doing here?" Sherry interjected.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing."

The young girl frowned. "I was kidnapped by some woman." 

"A blonde?" he questioned.

Sherry nodded. "Do you know if Claire is alright?"

"Claire? Was she with you?"

"No." Sherry could feel her eyes growing moist. "We were at the hotel together. She left the room for a moment and…" She paused to take a deep breath, wanting to stay in control of her emotions. She didn't know Carlos that well, and she didn't want to start blubbering like a child. "I…I opened the door…I thought it was Claire." The tears threatened to fall, so she stopped speaking.

After a few seconds, Carlos placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay." For a moment, he considered telling her about Leon, but without even knowing if the guy was still alive, it didn't make sense to add to her worries. He looked over at Christina. "And who might you be, little chica?"

"Christina." She held a hand out to him and he gave it a firm shake.

"We better get the heck out of here." As he stepped between them, Sherry grabbed his arm.

"What about Claire?" she pleaded. "We can't just leave her."

Carlos looked down at her. "We don't even know if she's here." He picked his head up as the sound of footsteps echoed from the other end of the hallway. "And right now, we need to worry about finding a way out first."

"I know the way," Christina stated. "My mom showed me."

Sherry stared at the other girl with wide eyes. "Oh, yeah. What about your mom?"

Christina shrugged her shoulders. "I'll show you guys how to get out, then I'll go find her."

"But, you can't stay here!" Sherry declared.

"Whose your mother?" Carlos questioned.

"Ellen Ross. She works here."

Carlos stared down at the child as his gut began to churn. The girl's mother was dead, and she didn't even know it. How the hell was he supposed to tell her something like that? And what was he going to do with her?

He could hear the footfalls getting closer. They had to move. The truth would have to wait. He needed to get them out first, then he would deal with the rest of it.

"We'll have to take this a step at a time, ladies. Right now, we need to beat feet." Carlos leaned down to the younger girl. "Which way?"

"That way." She pointed at a door to their left. "There's an elevator in that hall."

"What about stairs?" Carlos asked, knowing the elevator would be a bit too conspicuous.

Christina shook her head. "There aren't any."

Carlos sighed, heavily. "Somehow, I knew you were going to say that."

                                                           ***

_"I just wanted to see if I could do it."_

_Dick Valentine regarded his daughter with a look of skepticism. "You mean you wanted to see if you could get away with it."_

_"Same thing," Jill muttered. _

_"No, it's not the same thing," Dick corrected. "Trying something new is one thing, Jilly, but you've committed a felony! Do you understand what that means?"_

_Jill lifted her dark, troubled gaze from the dingy floor of her jail cell, and looked her father squarely in the eyes. "It means I'm just like you."_

"I never wanted you to be like me," Dick muttered to himself.

"What was that?"

Dick glanced over at Rebecca Chambers, shaking his head slightly as his thoughts returned to the present. "Just talking to myself. Sorry."

Rebecca smiled at him. "I do, too, sometimes." She looked back at the parking lot they had just exited and shifted her body slightly, sinking deeper into the leather seat. "You sure can pick 'em."

Dick grinned. "I just wanted to make sure we had something fast." He kept an eye on the rearview mirror, wondering how long it would take the owner of the car he was driving to realize it was missing. Despite what his daughter believed, he was never one for stealing automobiles. They were difficult to get rid of, at least in his opinion, and they were much too conspicuous. "It's been awhile since I've done something like this."

The young brunette unzipped the duffel bag she held in her lap, taking a mental inventory as she rummaged through its contents. "I've never done anything like this." She let out a long sigh. "I've found myself doing a lot of things in the past year that I could never have imagined doing before…" Her voice trailed off as her fingers brushed against something resting at the bottom of the bag. She closed her hand around the object and pulled it out, holding it up to examine it. 

"What have you got there?" Dick questioned.

"Jill's hat," Rebecca answered, moving it closer to him. "She used to wear it on every mission." 

"Really?"

Rebecca nodded. "She told me once that it brought her good luck." She brushed the old wool beret with her fingertips. "Of course, she doesn't wear it anymore."

Dick glanced over at his traveling companion. "Why is that?"

"She hasn't worn it since the Spencer estate."

"Oh."

Rebecca tucked the hat away and continued with her assessment of their weaponry. "I think we have enough firepower in here to take on a small army."

"Hopefully, it won't come to that," Dick offered.

"We really should have waited for Barry," Rebecca commented.

"I told you I could handle this alone."

"And I told you that was not a good idea," the young woman remarked. "I may not have been an Alpha, but I can still handle myself."

Dick smiled to himself. "I'm sure you can. And by the way, what's an Alpha?"

"Didn't Jill tell you anything about her work?" Rebecca blurted out before realizing how callous she sounded. "I mean…"

"It's okay, Rebecca," the man soothed. "Unfortunately, I don't know very much about my daughter's life these days." He gave her a sidelong glance. "I've been out of commission for a while."

"Sorry."

"Don't be," he told her. "I wish I did know more, but she tends to keep things to herself."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Rebecca agreed. "I feel close to Jill, but truthfully I don't really know her all that well." She shook her head. "I guess it's just this whole mess. We've all been so dependent on each other these last few months."

"Speaking of which, what's the story with Barry, anyway?" Dick questioned.

"What do you mean?" Rebecca asked as she began separating clips. There were some that belonged to the others, so they were useless to her and Dick. She tucked them away in another pocket of the bag.

"Well, he seems a bit over-protective of my daughter." Dick held his hand up. "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad she has people to depend on, but I thought I picked up on something, so I guess I'm a bit curious."

Rebecca cleared her throat as she tried to decide how much to tell Dick about what happened between Jill and Barry. It would be difficult for him to understand the way things were, then. Hell, it was tough enough for her and she was there. The type of duress Barry was under, his friends murdered, his family being threatened, the insanity of the whole situation would have been more than most people could handle. He was caught in a terrible trap at Wesker's hands, and forced to do things he didn't want to do. After it was over, everyone had been very understanding. Jill told Barry she didn't blame him for what happened. They all did. But, somehow Rebecca didn't think Dick would be grateful that Barry had saved Jill's life, considering he was the one that put her in danger in the first place.

"They went through a difficult time together," she replied cryptically. 

"I know that," Dick responded. "But, I think there's more to it."

The young woman kept her gaze forward. "There is." She rested her arms on the duffel bag and began to fidget with an empty clip. 

"Well?"

"I wouldn't want you to think that Barry is a bad person, or anything," Rebecca said softly. "Because he isn't."

The older man reached over and squeezed her forearm. "In case you didn't notice, I'm no saint." He pulled his hand away and placed it back on the stick shift. "I've done a few things I'm not very proud of, or have you forgotten that I'm supposed to be in prison right now?"

Rebecca turned to look at him. "No, I haven't." She took a moment to study Dick's profile. Even with most of his face covered in shadow, she could still appreciate his handsome features. He had a slightly rounded face, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw line. There was a small dimple in his tanned cheek. She wondered how he managed to get that way since he had been spending most of his time indoors. His eyes were a rich dark brown, just like Jill's. They even had the same hair color, although Dick's temples were showing a touch of gray. In fact, looking at him up close, she realized how much Jill resembled her father…in so many ways. She turned her gaze back to her hands. "But, betrayal is a hell of a lot worse than stealing."

"How did Barry betray you, exactly?"

Rebecca was unsure of how much to tell Dick since it was obvious his daughter had said nothing about it. Jill probably had her reasons for keeping it from him. And it certainly wasn't Rebecca's place to divulge any details if her friend had chosen not to. But, Dick was as much involved now as the rest of them, so perhaps she could be honest without giving away too much.  "Wesker blackmailed Barry into helping him when we were at the Spencer Estate."

"Blackmailed him?"

"He threatened to kill his family if he didn't cooperate."

Dick narrowed his eyes as he continued to watch the road. "Cooperate with what?"

Rebecca expelled a heavy sigh. "Wesker was trying to cover up Umbrella's secrets. The labs we discovered underground were full of records about their experiments. He was working for them, so his job was to get rid of the evidence."

"And he forced Barry to help him do that," Dick finished for her.

"Right." She decided to leave the rest of the story untold…for now. 

"Well, it sounds like he didn't have much of a choice," Dick stated, matter of factly. "I guess I can understand that."

The conversation ended as Rebecca opened a box of bullets and began to load them into the empty clip. The hum of the car's engine, along with the soft clicking sound each bullet made as Rebecca slipped them into the casing was beginning to lull Dick's frayed nerves.

He glanced over at the brunette out of the corner of his eye, still a bit stunned at how young she really was. It was difficult for him to imagine the things she had witnessed, although she certainly handled it well. Dick realized that her ability to bounce back from such tragedy was probably a testament to her youth. 

Jill told him some of what Umbrella had done, although he was certain she left quite a bit unsaid. That was just her way. But, there were times when he would look at his daughter, catching her in a brief moment, when she was unaware that she was being watched. There was something lurking in the dark depths of her eyes, and for a split second, he could see her emotions breaking the surface. Some of them were easy to read…fear, sadness, even anger. He had seen them all before.

But once in a while, he would catch a glimpse of something he couldn't identify, an emotion he didn't recognize in the dark gaze of his only child. There was only one word he found to describe it. She looked…haunted.

Dick couldn't help but wonder how Rebecca's experiences with Umbrella differed from Jill's own. He knew they had all separated at some point, as each team member went off to handle other situations. It seemed as though the younger girl had an easier time talking about what happened to her, where as Jill could hardly even discuss it. Maybe it was just their personalities. Rebecca definitely seemed to be more open and easy going by nature. His daughter, on the other hand, was far more reserved and intense. And something in Jill's demeanor had always made her seem much older than she really was. That was probably due to losing her mother at such a young age.

Jill had gone through a series of stages after her mother's death. Each one seemed to leave her personality somewhat altered, as if her grief was slowly changing her from the inside out. Initially, she had been depressed and withdrawn. After a few months had gone by, she began going through more changes. They were subtle at first, and Dick was so glad to see her coming out of her shell that he had hardly taken notice of her increasingly reckless behavior. 

When the fighting began, he thought she was just working through her anger. He had been in more than his share of fights when he was younger, so he chalked it up to heredity. As the bruises and scrapes mounted, however, it became more and more difficult for him to ignore. The school was calling him on almost a daily basis. Their frustration was reaching a breaking point, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they threw her out for good. He found himself facing a situation that he wasn't sure he could handle.             

Without Liz around, Dick's inadequacies as a father were becoming more obvious to him. Not that he didn't already know he was a less than ideal father, but after her death it didn't take long for the line between parent and child to became blurred. And considering Dick's occupation, he couldn't argue the fact that he was in no position to be anybody's role model.

Initially, his daughter slipped into the role of caretaker. She would insist that they eat a cooked meal every night, even if it was only take-out from a restaurant. And she took charge of the household duties. Dick understood her need to keep things running as smoothly as possible. Somehow, a clean house and normal routine made them both feel Liz's presence, even though she was no longer there. Unfortunately, that period of transition didn't last long.

Shortly after Dick began teaching Jill a few of his 'skills', she spent less and less time at home. He had always kept a rather peculiar schedule, and without someone to watch over Jill, he had left her to her own devices. She thought she was too old for a babysitter, and he really didn't want to risk anyone finding out how he spent his evenings. So, after much discussion, he had allowed Jill to be responsible for herself. That had turned out to be the first of many mistakes he would make in regards to raising his daughter.

It didn't take very long before Dick Valentine found himself at the local police station late one evening. But, he wasn't the one in trouble with the law. He was there to bail out his fourteen-year-old daughter, who had been arrested for stealing a car.

After much explaining to the judge about Liz's death and its effect on his teenage daughter, the court agreed to community service despite the severity of the charge. They also set up a series of visits to a grief counselor. Fortunately, Jill was still a minor, which meant her juvenile record would be sealed. 

To her credit, she had done her penance without complaint, and Dick took this as a sign that she understood the enormity of what she had done. He also hoped the counseling sessions would give her an opportunity to release her pent up feelings about her mother's untimely passing. 

Several months went by without incident. Even Jill's problems in school seemed to be subsiding, and Dick decided that the worst was over.

That, of course, had been his second mistake.

"You're awfully quiet."

Dick sighed, heavily. "I was just thinking about Jill."

Rebecca placed her hand on top of his and squeezed it firmly. "I'm sure she's fine." 

His gaze lingered on her for a moment, taking in the pleasant feel of her warm hand as it rested on his. It had been quite a while since he had spent any time in the company of a woman. Of course, Rebecca was young enough to be his daughter. In fact, she _was_ younger than his daughter. Still, he didn't see the harm in enjoying her companionship, at least.

"She knows how to take care of herself," the brunette added as she removed her hand.

Dick felt a twinge of disappointment as she broke contact. He shook his head, mentally, in an attempt to derail his current train of thought. "I know. But, it doesn't change the fact that I worry about her." Rebecca smiled in response and returned to filling their empty clips. He stole a quick glance at the young woman, watching with interest as she deftly loaded a handgun. The image of her innocent young face, coupled with the menacing weapon in her hands was an image he knew he would not soon forget. "And, by the way, you never did answer my question."

Rebecca focused her gaze on him. "What question?"

"What's an 'Alpha'?

                                                           ***

Jill moved silently, keeping her back to the wall as she made her way further into the warehouse. She spotted a stack of boxes and machinery piled near a side door and immediately made her way toward it, deciding it would provide her with the best cover to conceal her presence, while still giving her an opportunity to see what was going on nearby. As she moved into position, she crouched down and peered around a large crate, focusing her dark eyes on three men. 

The only one facing in her direction was Chris. Even in the shadowy darkness of the old building, she could see the tension in his face. His expression was grim as he stared, defiantly, at the two figures standing opposite him. 

Fortunately, she managed to follow Chris without too much difficulty. He stayed within the speed limit for most of the drive, probably to avoid being pulled over by the police, and Jill was grateful for that. She weaved in and out of traffic in an attempt to tail him unnoticed, fully expecting to see flashing lights come up behind her at any minute. Obviously, stealing the motorcycle from the motel was not the best way to keep a low profile, but she had been desperate.

After a relatively quick drive, Chris headed into a rundown area. When he pulled the van into the parking lot of the warehouse, Jill parked her own ride about a block away and headed toward the place on foot. Judging from the neighborhood, she doubted the bike would still be there when she got back.

She listened carefully, as Chris began to speak. Although his tone was soft, there was no mistaking the anger in it. 

"Where is she?"

"Not far from here." The response came from the taller man to Chris' left. "I'll take you to her." 

Jill furrowed her brow. The voice seemed familiar. At that moment, a sudden movement caught her eye. As she turned her head, her gun was already in motion. A large hand came up and seized her wrist, while another clamped tightly over her mouth.  

"It's me, " Barry whispered softly in her ear. He relaxed his grip when he saw the recognition on her face.

Jill lowered her weapon and took a deep breath as she wiped the palm of her other hand on the leg of her jeans. She gave Barry a questioning look before shifting her attention back to Chris and the two men.

"I can't believe you're doing this to them," Chris stated. Jill and Barry exchanged a knowing look. Obviously, these were the people who had taken Claire and Sherry.

Jill leaned in close to Barry and whispered, "Do you know who they are?"

"That's Leon," he responded, pointing to the man on Chris' left. "The other guy is probably just one of Wesker's goons."

Jill stared at Barry with wide eyes. "Leon?" She turned her gaze back to the man in question, still not fully comprehending what his role was in this whole mess. None of them wanted to believe he was involved in the girls' abduction, but here was the proof standing in front of her.

It was certainly possible that he had just been using Sherry in an attempt to get close to Claire, somehow hoping she would lead him to the rest of them. His concern for everyone's safety, along with his willingness to help them when they needed it, could have all been an act. Underneath it all, he could be just like Wesker. But for some reason, Jill didn't really think Leon was that good of an actor.

And he was definitely no Albert Wesker. 

Of course, the fact that Wesker had deceived them all was not that surprising. No one on the team knew him very well. He was their commanding officer. He kept his relationships strictly professional. And his cool demeanor kept everyone at arms length, something Jill did herself. 

She enjoyed working for him, and she had respected him. Like her, he had a no nonsense approach to some of the more hazardous situations they encountered, and Jill learned a great deal from him during her brief time in the squad. Not to mention the fact that he had saved her bacon on more than one occasion.

She hadn't been entirely shocked by his betrayal, but it still hit her hard. Of course, by the time Jill realized the truth about him, she had already seen things she couldn't have imagined even existed. And although she had some experience with violent crime, the horrors she witnessed during that time in the Spencer Estate, along with her nightmarish encounters in Raccoon City, had given her a completely different perspective on life. She had to forget everything she thought she knew about human decency.

In retrospect, the most difficult thing she had been faced with during that time was Barry's duplicity in Wesker's plans. Later on, she found out the real reason behind his treachery, but for those first few moments, as she stood there helpless while Barry disarmed her, there had been a feeling of utter despair.

She loved Barry. He was like a surrogate father to her. He was the first person Jill met after joining the team. She preferred to feign indifference to her colleagues, remaining distant and aloof, much like her superior. Barry was the only one who managed to see past her act. She certainly hadn't made it easy for him, but that only made him more determined to bring her into the fold. He took her under his wing and showed her the ropes. If it hadn't been for Barry, Jill wasn't even sure she would have stuck around.

Thinking he had turned on her was unimaginable. Fortunately, she found out the truth. If it hadn't been for Wesker's arrogance, as well as his big mouth, Jill would have died that day believing the worst. 

She could only hope that Claire wasn't going through the same experience.

"I have to put these on." Leon's voice broke into Jill's musing. She watched as he held out a pair of handcuffs to Chris, who dutifully turned his back on them and presented his hands. 

"You know I'm gonna kill you for this," Chris warned. "And if anyone has harmed a hair on their heads—"

"Like I told you before, they'll be okay", Leon stated firmly. "Let's just do this and go."

Jill noticed Barry moving out into the open with his gun raised. She clutched his arm and hissed, "What are you doing?"

Barry's expression was deadly serious. "I'm putting a stop to this."

"Wait a minute," Jill ordered. "We still need to know where the girls are."

"I've got a pretty good idea." 

She could feel his arm pulling away from her, so she tightened her grip. "Barry, no."

"Why?" He stared at her angrily. 

"Because we need to be sure," she explained. "If we're wrong, we'll lose our chance to get to them."

Barry returned to his original position as Jill released her hold on him. He moved in close until they were cheek to cheek. "Wesker's still kicking, Jill. He must have off'd the guy who rescued you. I saw him and Leon together just before he came here. I followed him from the HCF building."

"Shit." Jill felt a pang of guilt over Jeffrey Horowitz. The man had saved her life, by sacrificing his own. He had no idea who he was dealing with, and it had cost him dearly.

But, she had known. And now, Claire and Sherry were paying the price for her mistake.

Barry leaned back to look her in the eye. "That's got to be where they're headed." He studied his friend for a moment, noting the dark expression forming on her face. He knew that look. He had seen it staring back at him in the mirror.

Jill was blaming herself. For all of it.

He could almost see her demeanor shift as she compartmentalized her emotions. In mere seconds she was back to her usual professional detachment. "Then we follow them."

Barry nodded in agreement. It was the smartest thing to do. He was proud of her. He knew how she felt about Chris, and he also knew how difficult it was for her to make that decision. He watched as the two men led Chris outside before turning back to Jill. "Let's move."

                                                           ***

"What the hell are you?"

"You mean, who am I."

"No."

"Yes."

"You're just something that looks like me. A thing made in a lab."

"Does that mean I'm not human?"

"It means you're an abomination. An insult to humanity."

"I may have been conceived in a lab, but I am most certainly human." 

Claire shook her head as she backed away from the tube. Her look-alike took another step toward her. 

"Stay back," Claire warned. "If you're human, then I can kick your ass."

Her doppelganger smiled, coldly. "You can try."

The sound of grinding metal distracted Claire as she turned to focus on the source. A panel of the wall slid back to reveal a figure standing on the other side. The person's identity was slowly exposed as they stepped into the room.

"Alexia."

Claire rushed forward without hesitation, fully intending to get her hands around the woman's throat. Her tormentor remained perfectly still, unfazed by her rapid approach. As she got closer, Claire could see a grin spreading slowly across Alexia's face.

Only a few feet separated the two women, when something solid hit Claire in the back. The impact was enough to make her stumble, and she dropped to knees, landing at Alexia's feet. The young brunette reached a hand over her shoulder, her fingers coming into contact with an object protruding from her back. She barely had enough time to pull it out before she hit the floor.

"Poor Claire." Alexia knelt down over Claire's prone form. "So close…" She smoothed the girl's furrowed brow with the tips of her fingers. "But, don't worry. It's almost over."

Alexia glanced up as her creation approached them, the weapon still clutched tightly in her hand.  "Bring her." She stood up and walked out of the room without another word.

The young woman leaned down and grabbed Claire's arms, slowly hoisting her twin's body over her shoulder. She stood up and wrapped her arms around the girl's legs, as she adjusted her passenger to a more comfortable position.

"It's Showtime."

                                                           ***

Yay!!! My muses have returned! I have to tell you, I was afraid they had abandoned me, but I guess they just took a long vacation. God, that was just about the worst case of writer's block I've ever had. 

I hope everyone is still interested in this story. I know it's tough to wait so long for updates (not to mention annoying, frustrating, etc.), but I hope the end result will be worth it.

I also decided to change the rating to PG13. I wasn't sure how everything would turn out when I started, but I don't think the R is warranted, even though there is some mild violence and moderate language. I find it annoying that R rated stories don't show up when you pull up the 1st page. Maybe it's just me, but I sometimes forget to search new entries under the 'All' category.

Thanks to everyone who left a review (especially the more recent ones, and the comments left regarding my other story). It definitely gives me incentive to push myself when I know someone is enjoying the fruits of my labor.

I think I've pissed on long enough! On to chapter 20!! 

I'm really into exclamation points, right now!!! 

Later, folks!

         
  

    __


	20. Ups and Downs

Sacrifices 

****

Chapter 20: Ups and Downs

Robert Lessing walked briskly through the parking lot, fumbling for his keys as he reached his car. With the quick press of a button, he gripped the handle of the door and yanked it open. As he tossed his briefcase on to the passenger seat, a pair of hands grabbed him from behind. 

He found himself being thrown roughly against the side of the car. As he was spun around, a forearm pressed against his throat.

"You do anything stupid and I'll kill you."

Robert stared with frightened eyes at the mountain of a man leaning against him. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. 

"Who are you?" A woman's voice sounded to his left. 

The doctor shifted his gaze to look at her. Her features were slightly obscured by the darkness, but he recognized her immediately. "You…"

She took a step toward him and pointed a gun in his face. "You know me?"

The man's voice was choked off as the pressure against his windpipe increased. His hands fumbled in an attempt to remove the arm that was cutting off his oxygen supply. 

The woman placed her free hand on the larger man's arm. "Hey, ease up, or he'll pass out." He complied with a soft grunt. 

Robert took a large gulp of air, coughing softly as he expelled it. After a few seconds, he found his voice. "You're Jill Valentine."

Jill narrowed her eyes at him. "And you are…?"

"I'm a Doctor. I…I saved your life," he sputtered.

"Color me grateful," she replied flatly. "What's your name?"

"Lessing…" he answered quickly. "Robert Lessing." He looked at Barry. "Please, let me go. I haven't hurt anyone."

Barry straightened up and gripped the man by the collar of his jacket. "Let me guess…you're just a scientist, right?"

Robert nodded his head vigorously. "That…that's right. I'm just a researcher."

"What are you researching, Doctor?" Jill questioned. 

"I…I can't tell—"

Barry twisted his collar, tightly. "Don't try that 'it's a secret' crap. You're holding people in there against their will!"

The doctor shook his head. "The child's mother authorized the tests. I would never have done them otherwise, I can assure you."

Jill and Barry exchanged a look. 

"What child?" Barry demanded. 

Robert looked back and forth at them in confusion. "I thought…" His voice trailed off as he realized his mistake. 

Jill pressed the gun barrel to his forehead. "What child?"

"Christina Gleason." He noticed Jill's gaze drifting as she furrowed her brow. 

"Christina…" Jill said softly to herself. She shifted her focus back to him. "Are we talking about Ellen Ross' daughter?"

"Yes." He could see a look of confusion on her face. "Her father was Sam Gleason."

Barry looked at him in surprise. "Samuel Gleason? The head of White Umbrella?"

"He was the Director of Research…a brilliant scientist," Robert replied. "I used to work for him."

"Why are you doing tests on her?" Jill asked.

The doctor eyed her, cautiously. "She has some…unique abilities."

"What the hell does that mean?" Barry snarled. 

Robert focused on the gun still pointing at his head. "Please…"

Jill dropped the gun to her side. "What kind of abilities?"

"Sam gave her an experimental drug some time ago." He paused, noticing their horrified expressions. "She was dying. It was supposed to save her life…and it did. But, it left behind some residual effects. We've…I've been trying to figure out a way to reverse those effects."

"How noble of you," Barry said dryly. 

"Do you know about what happened to Ellen?" Jill questioned.

Robert looked at her fearfully. "I was told that you killed her."

"I suppose I was responsible for Jeffrey's death, as well, then?" she asked.

The young doctor nodded. "According to Wesker."

Jill looked at him, sharply. "You know who he is." 

"I've known him for quite some time." 

"Then you must know that he killed them," Jill explained.

"I suspected as much." He placed a hand on Barry's arm. "Could you please let go of me?" 

Barry gave the man a menacing look. "One wrong move and you're a smear on the pavement."

The smaller man gulped, audibly. He tore his gaze away from Barry, preferring to focus on the woman. "How did you know about Christina?"

Jill ran her free hand through her hair. "Ellen asked me to help her." She shot the doctor an angry look. "Right before Wesker broke her neck."

"So, she helped you to escape?" Robert asked.

Jill nodded. "So did Jeffrey." And look what happened to them, she could see him thinking. She studied the doctor for a moment. It was obvious from his expression that he felt some remorse over the death of his colleagues. Perhaps, he even felt some guilt for his duplicity in this whole convoluted mess.  

"Ellen did what she had to in order to save her daughter. Umbrella was only interested in her as a guinea pig." Robert began to straighten his collar. "Christina could never live a normal life, not the way she is now. Unfortunately, once Wesker got his hands on the child, Ellen had no choice but to go along. I guess, by then, she was desperate." The tone of his voice was bitter. He knew what it felt like to be under someone else's control.

"Why is Wesker so interested in her?" Jill asked.

"Have you seen what he can do?" Robert asked them. Barry shook his head, but Jill nodded, slowly.

"I have," she answered. "Assuming you're referring to his incredible speed."

"And his strength," Robert added. "It's far beyond a normal man."

Barry spoke up. "And Christina has these same abilities?"

"Yes. That's why Wesker wants to find out the drug's exact composition." 

"Then he was given this drug, as well," Jill reasoned.

"Right after they pulled him out of the Spencer Estate. He was near death, his body utterly destroyed. I couldn't believe he was even still alive. God, if you could have seen him…" He shuddered at the memory. As a doctor, he had seen countless ways for the human body to sustain injury. But, even the most seasoned doctors at Umbrella had been shocked by the amount of carnage Albert Wesker's body had been subjected to.

After a brief pause, Robert continued. "The drug saved him, but he had also been infected with the G-virus, so there was some spontaneous mutations to his physical appearance. His eyes were the most obvious, of course. Unfortunately for him, the two compounds have the same basic genetic structure. They bond with human DNA. The changes they cause are at the molecular level. In his body, they became a fusion of one genetic pattern. We couldn't figure out how to separate them, no matter how many tests we ran."

Jill placed a hand against her forehead. "So he needs an untainted sample of the drug."

"Exactly."

"God, I wish Rebecca were here, right now," Jill muttered. The younger woman would have a much better understanding of exactly what all of this meant. Even though she had been infected with the T-virus, Jill still didn't fully comprehend what effect it had on her own body. She had been given a vaccine, thanks to Carlos, but that cure and the virus still coexisted within her. She mentally shook off that very unpleasant thought.

"The virus kills healthy cells with infection, and then reanimates them after the host's body ceases to function. The drug, by contrast, repairs the damaged cells as they are reborn, making them better than ever. Both compounds work at an alarming rate. They are waging a war in Wesker's body…and eventually, one of them will win."

"Any clue as to which one?" Barry questioned.

"No," Robert replied. "But, if I had to guess, I'd say the virus."

"One can only hope," Jill added. "So, he was hoping to better his odds by taking more of this wonder drug?"

The doctor nodded. "That's what I'm here for...to figure out the formula. Unfortunately, when Sam died, the secret went with him."

A thought suddenly occurred to Jill. "What about the vaccine? Why didn't he just go after that?"

Robert narrowed his eyes at her. "What vaccine?"

"The vaccine for the G-Virus." 

Robert shook his head. "No, that wouldn't be possible."

"Why?" Barry questioned.

"None of the vaccines were ever viable," Robert explained. "There were several labs producing test samples, but to my knowledge, it was never achieved. The strains were just too virulent. That was one of the inherent dangers of working with them...sort of like flying on a trapeze without a net. If you became infected, well…you died." He paused, noticing their odd expressions. "You both witnessed that firsthand at the Spencer Lab."

Jill just stared at him in disbelief.

"What?"

"That's a crock of shit," Barry said forcefully. "You're lying."

"Lying about what?" Robert asked in confusion. "I don't understand."

"I was infected," Jill spoke softly.

Robert's eyes widened. "You…with what?"

"The T-virus."

"And you were given a vaccine?"

She nodded. "That was almost seven months ago."

"There must be a mistake," Robert replied. 

"There's no mistake!" Jill stated vehemently. "I was dying…" She placed a hand across her eyes. "Trust me…I remember every second of it."

"Incredible," Robert breathed as he sagged against the car. 

"What, that Umbrella lied about a cure?" Barry growled. 

Robert ignored the other man as he straightened up, his expression deadly serious. "How do you feel?"

Jill threw her hands up in exasperation. "Oh, just great, since I've been told I should be dead…"

"No," he responded. "At least, I don't think so."

"But, you just said--"

"None of the test subjects ever survived. When given a vaccine, they were dead within a few days…sometimes even less than that. No one ever made it beyond a week."

Jill locked gazes with the young doctor.

"No one," he repeated.

"Until now," Barry added, giving Jill a pointed look.

"I can't believe this," Jill whispered, turning away from them.

"Believe me," Robert continued, "…if Umbrella had a vaccine, Alexia would have used it. As it was, she was so hysterical when they brought Wesker in that she took the only existing sample of Sam's drug and injected him with it."

Barry held a hand up. "Whoa, you mean Alexia Ashford?"

Yes," Robert answered slowly. "She—"

"Wait a minute," Jill interrupted. "Alexia Ashford was sitting in cold storage a long way from Oregon. She couldn't have been there."

The doctor looked aghast. "What?"

"Our friends ran into her in Antarctica," Barry offered by way of explanation. He noted the look of skepticism that crossed the other man's face. "Look, it's a long story. But, you must have the wrong Ashford."

"I don't know what you're talking about, but I've known Alexia Ashford for years. While I can't say that she's never been to the Antarctic, I know for a fact that she was the one who gave Wesker that drug, because I was the one who gave it to _her_."

Barry looked over at Jill in exasperation. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," she sighed, her mind still reeling over the doctor's revelations about the vaccine. "Look, we've wasted enough time out here." She pinned Robert with a steely gaze. "We've got to get inside. We have friends in there. They'll be dead soon if we don't hurry."

Robert stared at her in shock. "You mean…you want me to get you in?"

"You science types catch on quick," Barry muttered. He grabbed the young doctor's arm and pulled him away from the car. "Lead the way, Bob."

"Wait." Robert spun around to look at Barry. "If he catches us, I'm a dead man."

Barry removed his magnum from inside his vest and stuck the barrel under Lessing's chin. "My friend, you are definitely stuck between a rock and a hard place."

Jill came around from behind Barry and placed a hand on Robert's shoulder. "We'll do our best to protect you, but you are going to get us in."

"Yes…of course," Robert responded. He closed his eyes as Barry released him. It took several seconds before he trusted his legs to hold him upright. He turned back to face the building, an ominous feeling gripping him as he began to walk toward it.

He would never make it out alive.

                                                           ***

"Didn't that strike you as being a little too easy?"

Rebecca looked over at Dick and shrugged. "Let's not look a gift horse in the mouth." She crept quietly down the corridor, stopping to poke her head into an empty office from time to time. The street level of HCF Enterprises was deserted save for the three warehouse employees she and Dick had left tied up in the dock office. Although it was late, they had been expecting a lot more activity.

Unfortunately, they had been unsuccessful in finding a way to enter the lower levels Jill had spoken of, as the dockworker's key cards only gave them limited access. They were currently three floors lower than where they started, but just like all of the previous ones, there was no one around.

"I've got a really bad feeling about this," Dick muttered.

As if in response to Dick's lament, the chime of an elevator sounded from the end of the hallway. They both reacted quickly, each ducking into an office on opposite sides of the corridor. 

Rebecca held her breath, as the sound of footsteps got closer. Their pace was fast, and it sounded like several people. She watched Dick as he crept closer to the edge of the doorway, the darkness of the office interior serving to cloak him from view. Within seconds, the people approached their hiding spot. Rebecca held her weapon tightly, giving a quick nod to Dick as she stepped out and called a warning.

"Freeze."

She and Dick were now shoulder to shoulder as the elevators occupants stared in disbelief.

"Rebecca…shit." Carlos quickly pointed his rifle toward the ceiling. "I almost shot you!"

"Carlos?" Rebecca lowered her gun. "Carlos, what on earth are you doing here?" It was then she noticed his two companions. "Sherry!" 

The girl in question ran forward, nearly knocking the young medic off her feet as she embraced her. She pulled back and looked up at Rebecca. "Where's Claire?"

"Wha…" Rebecca shot a look at Dick. She rested her hands on the girl's shoulders. "We thought she was with you."

Sherry shook her head as tears threatened to fall, once again. "No…I haven't seen her."

Dick regarded the young mercenary with a suspicious look. "How did you get here?"

"It's a long story," he sighed. "It's okay, cherida. These people are friends." Carlos placed a hand on Christina's back, gently coaxing her along. "Don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid!" Christina responded, whirling on him with a look of defiance. "I just want to go back. I want to see my mom!"

He held a hand up in an attempt to calm her. "I know. But, right now the most important thing is to get out of here." He knelt down in front of her. "This is a dangerous place, and I'm sure your mom would want you to be safe. Do you understand?"

The little girl pointed a finger at Sherry and stated, "She was the one in danger, not me."

Sherry's eyes widened at that statement as she watched Carlos reach a hand out to Christina.

"I think, maybe you were both in trouble down there," he responded. 

The child's expression softened. "My mom wouldn't let me get into trouble."

Rebecca finally spoke up. "Do you know where her mother is Carlos?"

"No," he replied, shooting her a pointed look. "But, I don't think she's here."

"Well, you better get them out of here," Dick suggested. "They certainly aren't safe out here in the open." He punctuated his statement by holding up his gun. "We're expecting some trouble of our own."

Carlos stood up and shouldered his newly acquired rifle, before turning his attention to Dick. "I heard Jill got out."

Dick nodded. "Yeah, but it gets more complicated. She may have come back."

"For Sherry?" Carlos asked

"And Claire," Dick added.

"Then Claire is here, after all," Sherry stated.

"We think so," Rebecca told her. "Chris took off on his own, so we think he was on his way here."

"And Jill?" Carlos asked, already knowing the answer.

"She followed him," Dick confirmed.

"We haven't been able to reach them," Rebecca explained. "Although, we're not sure what that means…"

A puzzled look crossed Carlos' face. "Where's Barry?"

"He's following Leon."

Carlos stared at Dick in surprise. "Leon? But…he was with me."

"What?" Now it was Dick's turn to look surprised. "Then, you know about Wesker?"  
  


"Wesker?!" Carlos nearly shouted. "What the hell does he have to do with this?"

Christina tugged on Carlos' shirt. "You shouldn't say bad words."

Dick expelled a heavy sigh. "Look, we don't have time--"

"Heads up!" Rebecca's shout brought everyone's attention around as they followed her gaze, just in time to see a group of armed guards coming toward them. She grabbed Sherry, pulling her back into the office she had previously used as a hiding spot. A quick look across the hall confirmed that Dick had also done the same. 

Carlos grabbed Christina and jumped back into the open elevator. He pressed his body against the inside wall, keeping the child hugged closely to his side to shield her from harm. As he did so, the hallway exploded in a hail of gunfire. 

Sherry ducked her head down as the frame of the office doorway splintered under the barrage of bullets. A large chunk of wood hit her in the face, causing a streak of blood to appear on her cheek.

"Ouch!"

Rebecca put an arm across the girl's chest and forced her farther back into the room. "Are you okay?" Sherry nodded as the older woman raised her gun and prepared to return fire. The brunette attempted to get a look down the hall to check on Carlos and the little girl, but the assault wouldn't let up long enough to give her a chance. She looked over at Dick and gestured to him with an upturned thumb. He nodded in understanding and stood up, readying himself as he waited for her signal.

"We need the kid alive, you idiots!" someone shouted as the onslaught continued. "Hold your fire!" 

The ex-Bravo counted off with her fingers as she crouched into a firing position. She and Dick emerged from their hiding places with perfect precision and began shooting back at their attackers. 

Carlos peered around the edge of the elevator door. "Everyone okay?"

"So far," Dick called back. He and Rebecca continued to spray the other end of the hall with bullets, hoping to keep the occupants at bay. "But, we need a way outta here. Fast!"

Rebecca concealed herself, once again, as she pulled another clip from her pocket. With practiced ease she released her spent clip and slammed the new one home, chambering a round with a quick jerk of her hand. Within seconds, she was back in place and firing her weapon. "The only way out is that elevator!" 

Carlos pressed a few buttons, experimentally, but nothing happened. He slammed his hand against the wall in frustration. "They must have cut the power!"

"You need one of those thingies."

He looked down at Christina, following her hand as she pointed to the card reader on the wall. "We didn't need one to come up." The little girl just shrugged her shoulders. Carlos peeked his head out of the elevator and called out, "I don't suppose you guys have a key card for this thing?"

"Ours wouldn't work." Rebecca stepped back inside the office as she and Dick decided to conserve their ammunition. The men had stopped firing at them for the moment, but she knew that only meant they were probably about to take another course of action.

A soft thumping noise sounded in the hall, and Dick peeked his head around the doorway to get a look. "Shit!"

Rebecca was now looking out, as well. "Teargas?"

"That's my guess," Dick commented. 

Christina tugged on Carlos' shirt. "The guards wear them."

"Wear what?" he asked.

"The cards," she answered. "Like a necklace." 

Carlos blew out a breath. "Well, that's great, but we can't get close enough to those guys to get one."

"I can."

"What do you--" As the words left his mouth, the child vanished. "Hey!"

Rebecca heard Carlos shout. "What's wrong?" She and Sherry left the relative safety of the office and started to make their way down the hall.  The two girls began to cough as the hallway filled with smoke. 

"She's gone!" Carlos' looked around in astonishment. 

Dick started to follow behind the girls as a loud crash got his attention, He heard a shout and turned back to look toward their assailants, but he couldn't see beyond the growing wall of gas. As he turned back, something caught his attention. A faint breeze buffeted the back of his bare hand as a plume of smoke billowed toward him. He stared in rapt fascination, watching the clouds of gray smoke drift past him, as if caught in a wake. He shook his head and quickly headed for the elevator. 

"Here." 

The young mercenary nearly jumped out of his skin as the child suddenly appeared in front of him. "What the fuck?!"

Christina frowned at him. "That's a very bad word." She extended her hand to him revealing a thin black cord dangling from her tiny fingers. At the end of it, was a key card.

Carlos stared in disbelief. "How did you get that?"

"I took it," she answered simply. 

"I haven't had a chance to tell you about Christina," Sherry commented as she and Rebecca appeared at the elevator door. "She's a special kid."

"You can say that again," Carlos replied, still not fully understanding what he had just witnessed.   

"Our welcoming committee will be here any second," Dick reminded them as he ushered the others into the elevator. 

"Right." Carlos took the card from Christina's hand and swiped it as Dick stepped inside. The elevator doors closed behind him and the car began its descent.  

Dick looked down at the little girl and smiled. "You sure are fast on your feet, kid."

Christina giggled and began to swing her arms, nonchalantly. "And I knocked the bad man over when I took it."

Rebecca knelt down in front of her. "Are you alright?" She looked the child up and down, searching for any signs of injury.

"Yup." Christina pulled on Carlos' shirt. "No more bad words," she reprimanded.

"Yes, ma'am." Carlos gave her a mock salute. "And no more running off."

The girl turned her bright green eyes up to him. "Yes, sir." She returned his salute with one of her own.

"So, where are we going?" Rebecca asked.

Carlos looked at the panel beside the card reader. "I have no idea. The floors aren't numbered, so I picked a button near the bottom." 

"Won't we just end up where we started?" Sherry questioned.

"I don't think so," Carlos answered. 

"Couldn't we have gone up?" Rebecca wondered.

Carlos shook his head. "Nope. That was the top level, at least for this elevator."

"Well, anywhere has got to be better than where we were," Dick stated. "Besides, I'm not leaving until I find Jill."

Rebecca put a hand on Dick's arm. "We need to get the girls to safety."

"I want to help you look for Claire," Sherry stated firmly. 

"I want to see my mom," Christina interjected.

Everyone stopped speaking as the elevator finally reached its destination. The three adults converged in front of the doors, effectively blocking the children from view. 

Rebecca held her breath as she slowly raised her weapon. She spared a quick glance at Dick and Carlos. They were both tensed and ready on either side of her. A sense of déjà vu swept over her for a brief moment, making her feel as though she were back in that godforsaken mansion. Her eyes stayed fixed on the large metal doors as they began to open. She tightened her finger on the gun's trigger, squeezing gently as she waited to see what lay beyond. 

Darkness.

Dick could fell his heart beating faster as he stared into the black void in front of him. He blinked rapidly, trying to help his eyes to adjust, when he spotted something in the dark.

Two red lights…

_Two red eyes...blood red…just like the dream._

"What is that?" he said softly, afraid that his mind was playing tricks with his vision.

"I don't know," Carlos responded. "Wait here." Before anyone had a chance to protest, the young mercenary stepped out of the elevator and was immediately swallowed up by the darkness.

"Carlos," Rebecca called after him. "Be careful." Everyone remained silent, listening to the sound of his footsteps as he moved further away from them. A loud clicking noise resounded, giving everyone a start, as the area outside the elevator was suddenly flooded with light. 

Dick could see Carlos standing a short distance away from them with his hand resting on a switch. The two small lights below it had gone out, indicating that the power was now on. The older man breathed a sigh of relief, almost laughing out loud at his foolishness.

Rebecca noticed the strange look on his face. "You okay?"

"Just dandy," he replied with a wink. 

"Well, folks, it looks like nobody's home," Carlos called to them. "Let's get moving before they figure out where we are." 

Sherry stuck her head out and glanced around. "What is this place?"

Dick quickly made his way over to Carlos. They were standing on a catwalk, overlooking a cavernous room full of containers of varying shapes and sizes. Rows of computers separated the areas into smaller sections, and at the center of the room was a giant pool of some unknown liquid substance.

"Oh god."

The two men looked over at Rebecca, who was staring at the scene in horror. She moved closer to the edge of the railing as her eyes took in every gruesome detail.

Dick came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "What is it?"

She raised her hand and pointed at a row of glass tubes just below them. "Look…can't you see it?"

He followed her gaze, his eyes widening as he realized what he was looking at…

"People…" he whispered. "There are people in those tubes."

Rebecca looked over at him. "As awful as this sounds, Dick…I hope your right."

                                                           ***

Awww…sorry, but I had to end it there. The original chapter was waaayyy too long, so I had to split it up (which caused a slight rewrite, grrrr). Hey, another chapter in the same month. Woohoo! I'm on a roll.

I have to say, this story gets more complicated as I go along. Some things I had intended from the beginning, and others…well, let's just say I was inspired.

And as far as the whole cell phone thing, it would be too easy if the characters could always keep in touch. Where would the fun be if everyone knew what everyone else was doing? And, truthfully, I am practically married to my cell phone these days and I think they are EVIL!! People can reach me anywhere!! Aaghh!! 

And let's see some reviews, my good readers. I need them. 

Stay tuned for chapter 21…Later, folks. 


	21. Showtime

Sacrifices 

****

Chapter 21: Showtime

Sherry kept her eyes straight ahead as she walked briskly across the catwalk. The only thoughts she could focus on were getting out of this latest hellhole she found herself in, and finding Claire. 

Their gruesome discovery only made her more determined to find her friend. Whatever was going on here, she knew Claire was somehow in the middle of it.

And Leon.

The young girl shook her head in an attempt to dispel the unpleasant thoughts she was having. No matter what anyone said, she refused to believe that Leon was a traitor. And the idea that he had anything to do with her kidnapping was unthinkable. They had been through hell together, and she knew him better than the rest of them. He would never hurt her. And he most certainly would never hurt Claire.

He was in love with her.

Sherry had known that for quite some time. During Claire's absence, she had witnessed the effect it had on him firsthand. He worried about her constantly, even though he tried to hide it. And when he found out about her capture in Paris, he had almost gone out of his mind waiting while her brother had gone to her rescue. 

Even though their reunion was short-lived, she could see in his face how happy he was to see Claire again. It was obvious that during the months they had been apart his feelings for her had only grown stronger.

Sherry knew exactly how he felt.

The sound of angry voices brought her out of her own thoughts. She noticed Carlos had stopped moving and was now facing her. His gaze was focused on something behind her, so she turned to look at what had gotten his attention.

She could see Rebecca and Dick further back along the walkway. They appeared to be in the midst of a rather heated conversation, judging from the way Rebecca was waving her arms about…and the fact that their voices were getting louder.

"I have to!"

"No, you don't!"

"I need to see what's down there!"

"Hey!"

Dick and Rebecca halted their discussion. The young medic looked over at Carlos and pointed out a ladder that led down to the lower level. "I'll only be a minute."

"Rebecca…," Dick started.

Carlos held a hand up in protest. "Whoa, are you nuts?"

"My sentiments exactly," Dick commented.

Rebecca sighed loudly. "I just want to check it out."

"Why?" Carlos questioned.

"Because they might need help," she reasoned.

"Yeah," he acknowledged. "Or, they might rip your lungs out."

Rebecca gave the young mercenary a dubious look. "I can't just walk away."

"What if Claire's down there?"

The three adults shifted their attention to Sherry, who was now standing by the railing looking down. 

"Sherry, I'm sure she's not down there."

The young blonde cast Rebecca a mournful look. "You don't know that."

"You're right, I don't," she admitted. "There's only one way to be sure."

Dick threw his hands up as he watched Rebecca grasp the top wrung of the ladder and begin her descent. "Well, you're not going down alone." He glanced over at Carlos as he started after her. "Be right back."

Carlos rolled his eyes and placed the palm of his hand against his forehead. "Oh, for Christ-, "he caught himself as a small figure entered his line of vision. "Pete's sake!" He threw Christina a pointed look. "There, are you happy?"

Christina smiled at him as she approached Sherry. The younger girl reached a hand out and placed it on Sherry's arm, patting it gently as she attempted to offer the older girl some comfort. "Don't worry."

Sherry attempted to return the girl's smile, but failed miserably.

***

Dick glanced around nervously, waiting for something to jump out at him. The area he and Rebecca were walking through was poorly lit, which only served to make the surroundings even more nightmarish…as if that were even possible. 

Having seen some pretty horrible things in his life, Dick always thought of himself as someone who did not scare easily. But for the first time since he had met his daughter's friends, he was beginning to realize just how out of his element he really was. This whole mess reminded him of something out of a bad science fiction movie. Unfortunately, it was all too real.

He watched in morbid fascination as Rebecca approached the first row of tubes, wishing that she wouldn't get so close, but knowing that she would anyway. As her hand lifted up to touch one of the clear objects, he found himself unable to remain silent. 

"What the hell are you doing?"

Rebecca's hand froze in mid-air as she glanced over her shoulder. "I just want to wipe away some of the condensation that's collected on this thing. I can hardly see what's inside."

"And this is a bad thing?"

The young woman ignored his comment as she rested her hand against the tall cylindrical container. The surface felt cool under her palm as she wiped it across the glass, hoping to get a better look at its contents.

Rebecca leaned forward to peer in through the watery streaks her hand had created. She studied the item inside for several seconds, her body shivering involuntarily as her mind tried to decipher exactly what it was she was looking at.

When she spotted the tubes from above, the computer screens had given off ample backlight to illuminate the interior, making it appear as though there might be people inside of them. But, now that she was up close, it was obvious that this…thing, whatever it was, was not really a person at all. 

She took a deep breath as she stepped back from the glass. This was exactly what she had been afraid of…

"Experiments…"

Dick stepped up beside her. "What was that?"

She continued to stare at the tube. "It's some kind of experiment."

"How so?" he questioned as he leaned forward to look inside. 

"It looks like a person…except…"

"There are no facial features," Dick finished for her. He stepped back, slowly, giving her a horrified look. "What the hell is it?"

"I don't know," she responded warily. "I suppose it could have been a person once…maybe."

"It looks to me like someone who hasn't quite finished cooking yet."

Rebecca suddenly reached out and grabbed Dick by the arm, her eyes going as wide as saucers. "That's it!" She released him and headed toward another row of containers. 

Dick stared after her for a moment. "What's it?" He could hear her mumbling softly to herself as she studied another tube. He waited for a response from her, but it was as though he was no longer in the room. "Rebecca?"

"I can't believe it!" she exclaimed as she checked another container. After looking at nearly a dozen tubes in different locations, she finally stopped at a row near the back of the room.

Dick observed her frantic movements as she weaved around each section. When she finally came to a stop, he walked over to where she stood, approaching her from behind. Rebecca's hand rested on another tube. A few small droplets of moisture were still slipping down from beneath her palm. She stood there, unmoving, her eyes riveted to the spot.

"Rebecca?"

She didn't answer him.

"Rebecca?" he repeated, raising his voice slightly.

"It's him, Dick," she whispered. "My God, it's all him."

Dick gripped her arm and spun her around to face him. She stared unfocused for a moment, as though she were looking through him. He held her by her upper arms, feeling her body trembling beneath his hands as he gave her a quick shake to gain her attention.

"Him, who?" he pressed. 

Rebecca's heart pounded, fiercely. She was struggling to breathe, her chest constricting as if being held in a vise. She clung to Dick, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly, as she fought to find her voice again.

It was unthinkable.

It was insane.

It was…

"Wesker." 

***

"Clear."

Jill poked her head around the corner. Barry stood at the end of the corridor, looming over the unconscious form of another guard. She glanced back at the doctor, who was standing right behind her. He was shifting back and forth on his feet, wringing his hands together as he glanced about nervously.

"Are you alright?"

Robert gave her a startled look. "What?"

Jill softened her tone a bit. "I said, are you alright?"

The young doctor nodded, giving her a faint smile. "I'm just a bit…nervous."

"I can understand that," she responded. "Let's get moving." She motioned for him to follow her as she stepped out into the brightly lit hallway. As they approached Barry he grabbed the limp form off the floor and dragged him through an open doorway nearby. Jill only caught a quick glance inside before Barry closed the door behind him. She motioned toward the room as she glanced at Robert. "What's in there?"

"Storage," he answered simply. 

Barry walked over to them. He focused his steely gaze on the doctor. "You're sure that's the last of them?"

Lessing nodded. "The entrance we used is reserved for medical personnel only. For some reason, Wesker doesn't feel the need to keep it heavily guarded."

"He doesn't have much in the way of security at all, if you ask me," Jill commented.

"His own arrogance doesn't allow him to bother with much muscle these days," Robert explained. "Coupled with the fact that he doesn't want too many people knowing his business, of course."

"We still don't know what that is, exactly," Jill commented.

"As I told you before, I know very little about what goes on here, beyond my own research."

"So, the whole pharmaceutical company is just a front?" Barry asked.

"No," Robert stated emphatically. "The majority of the people employed here are doing legitimate work. They have no idea that the company funds…other activities."

"Care to elaborate?"

The doctor turned his attention to Jill. "You already know most of what I know." They stared at each other for a moment.

"But, there's more," she said slowly.

"There's always more," he replied.

"Where will this corridor lead us," Barry questioned, changing the subject. 

"To my lab."

"What else is down there?" Jill asked.

"Mostly offices, which should be empty at this time of night. And a conference room. He suddenly placed a hand into his coat pocket, causing Barry and Jill to raise their weapons.

"What the hell are you doing?" Barry barked.

Robert's face paled. "I'm…I'm sorry," He put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I only meant to give you this."

Jill spotted a small object clutched tightly in his left hand. She reached out and grabbed it, turning it over to examine it. "What is this?"

"It's a special access key."

Jill looked at him sharply. "To what?"

"Christina."

"Are you planning on going somewhere, Doctor?" Barry questioned.

Robert looked at them with fearful eyes. "Please, you don't need me anymore."

"We still don't know where the child is," Jill reminded him.

"You already have my key card. That will get you everywhere you need to go." He began to talk faster, afraid that they would be discovered at any minute. He was desperate to get out of this place, and away from these people. He knew how Wesker felt about them. And Robert knew what would happen if he were found assisting them…even if it was at gunpoint. "There shouldn't be any other obstacles on this floor. The elevator just beyond my lab will get you down to the lower levels. And with that," he pointed to the object in Jill's hand, "…you'll be able to rescue Christina."

"What's on the lower levels?" Barry asked.

"Besides imprisoned children," Jill added bitterly.

"I don't really know," Robert answered truthfully. "That was Ellen's area." He shivered inwardly, thinking back to the young woman's recent demise. If he didn't get out of there soon, he would be next. "She was in charge of security. Her people were the only ones allowed down there…along with Wesker, of course."

"What about Alexia Ashford?"

Robert shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I hardly ever see her, anymore. She pays a visit to my lab whenever she's in town. But, all we ever talk about is my research. Since she pays the bills, I accommodate her in any way I can."

"She pays the bills?" Jill questioned.

Robert nodded. "Yes. HCF is her company." He noticed Jill and Barry exchanging a puzzled look. "I thought you knew that already."

Barry let out a low whistle. "The plot thickens."

Jill put a hand up. "So, you're saying that she owns a company that is in competition with Umbrella, which she also owns?"

"Well, it's not quite like that," he explained. "While Alexia is a major stockholder, Umbrella has a board of directors. They actually hold most of the power. The Ashford family may have started the business, but as the only remaining member, Alexia is little more than a figurehead, now." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe, if her brother hadn't been so…unhealthy, they may have been able to maintain some control. But, no matter how brilliant she is, Umbrella is just too big for Alexia to manage anymore."

"I still don't understand," Jill muttered.

"About Antarctica?" Barry asked.

Jill nodded. "Yeah. I mean, if that wasn't Alexia…"

"Then, who was it?" Barry finished.

"And, what does this have to do with Claire?" Jill pondered.

"Well, that should be obvious," Barry interjected. "Wesker's using her as bait to get to Chris."

"Mmm…" Jill looked at her friend doubtfully. "I think there's something else going on here."

"There's plenty going on, Jill," Barry agreed. "But, we're not gonna figure it out standing around here." He grabbed Robert by the arm. "And as for you, I think we'll require the pleasure of your company for a bit longer." He shoved the man forward, roughly. "To the lab, James."

"Um…It's Robert"

"Shut the fuck up and move!"

Jill reached over and touched Barry lightly on the arm. "You don't need to be so rough with him, Barry."

Barry gave Jill a hard stare as he jabbed a finger toward the doctor. "That asshole was using somebody's kid as a lab rat." He shot the man an angry glance. "The very idea of anybody actually doing something like that to an innocent little girl…my girls…"

Jill looked up into Barry's anguished face. "That's one of the reasons we're doing this, Barry. So no one will ever threaten our families again."

He wrapped a large, burly arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. "You're right."

She flashed him a genuine smile. "So?"

He grinned. "So, let's go kick some ass."

***

"How much further?"

Leon shot Chris a nervous glance as he reached for the doorknob. "We're here." They stepped into the room as the third man waited outside. 

Chris turned his back to Leon and extended his hands out toward him. "Can we get rid of these now?"

"Sure." Leon slipped a key into the lock and removed the handcuffs. He let them dangle loosely in his hand as he gave the room a cursory look.

There was a long wooden table in the center, surrounded by a dozen or so chairs, and a large mirror on the far wall. His gaze rested on his reflection for a moment. What he saw there made him turn away in disgust. He looked over at Chris and gestured toward one of the empty chairs. "Why don't you sit down?" 

"I prefer to stand," Chris replied icily. 

"Let's go, Kennedy." They both looked at the other man still standing outside. 

Chris grabbed Leon's upper arm as he started to leave. "Where are the girls?" 

"Just wait here," Leon instructed, pulling his arm away. He wanted desperately to tell Chris what was happening. That Sherry's life was in danger, and that he had no idea where Claire was, or if she was even still alive. 

Of course, Chris had been told that he would be brought to the girls' location. At least that was half right. Sherry was here, and she was safe…for now. Leon's continued cooperation was supposed to insure that, but Claire's whereabouts were still a mystery.

Leon didn't have a plan yet, but bringing Chris here made him feel some hope. If the rest of his friends were as good as they seemed to be, maybe they knew what was happening, despite the fact that Chris had been instructed to keep them out of it. Better yet, maybe they had even followed him. Of course, that could be exactly what Wesker wanted all along.

What about Alexia Ashford? What did she want?

Revenge.

But, against who?

Claire…or Chris?

"Tell me what's going on here, Leon," Chris demanded.

The younger man snapped out of his momentary contemplation. He shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. "I wish I knew."

Chris eyed Leon with suspicion. There was something in the man's eyes that he couldn't quite read. He didn't know Leon as well as Claire. Of course, it seemed that his little sister didn't know the man all that well, either. 

Leon took a step back, shifting his gaze to a spot over Chris' shoulder. "I have to go." He turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him. 

Chris could hear the door being locked from the outside. He took a deep breath and spun around, noticing the large mirror that had grabbed Leon's attention. His adrenaline level demanded that he keep moving, so he found himself walking around the table, keeping his eyes fixed on the mirror. He brought his hand up and pressed his palm to the smooth finish, examining his reflection as he did so. There was no gap between his hand and the mirror's image, which only confirmed what he already suspected.

It was a two-way mirror.

"Shit," Chris removed his hand quickly, as though the surface were suddenly too hot to touch. He remained rooted to the spot, staring in defiance at his own reflection. He could feel someone on the other side, watching him. And he knew exactly who it was.

"So, you're into kidnapping little girls now, you sick motherfucker!" Chris shouted. He pulled his fist back and slammed it into the glass, creating a spider web of cracks that distorted his angry image. "Where is my sister?" He bent his head, slightly, as he rested his forehead against the marred surface.

When would all of this end?

It wasn't Claire's fault that he had gotten himself involved in this mess, but she kept paying the price. She nearly died searching for him in Raccoon City. When she tracked him to Europe, she had been taken prisoner by Umbrella and brought to that hellish island. And finally, she had ended up in a frozen wasteland, running from a madman…forced to watch her friend die before her very eyes. 

And now...

Wesker.

Chris groaned softly as he lifted his head. He couldn't bear the thought of Claire being at that man's mercy. What was happening to her? Had Wesker hurt her?

Was she even still alive?

"Claire," he whispered softly. His weary gaze locked onto his own tired, gray eyes. "Are you there?"

"Chris."

***

"Chris!"

Alexia turned to look at the young woman seated next to her. "He can't hear you."

Claire shot the blonde a hateful look as she pulled at her bonds. She had been working on them since she woke up in this room, but the straps binding her to the chair she sat in continued to hold her securely.

When the tranquilizer finally wore off, Claire found herself in new surroundings. The only thing in this small room, other than her, was Alexia, who was seated in the chair right beside her. They were both positioned in front of a large darkened window. 

At first, she hurled a string of obscenities at her captor, but that only managed to earn her a slap across the face, so she had decided to remain silent, hoping an opportunity for escape might present itself. 

Then, the lights came on.

Claire stared in shock as she saw first Leon, and then Chris enter the room on the other side of the window. For a split-second, her heart soared when she saw them, until she spotted the handcuffs on her brother's wrists. Then, she watched as Leon removed them, and she felt as though she had been kicked in the gut.

She'd been sick with worry over Leon since their last conversation had ended so abruptly. The last thing she ever expected was to find him here, helping this psychotic woman lure her brother into a trap.

She didn't fully understand how Leon had become involved with Alexia, but she had no doubt that he was being forced to do these things. The crazy bitch must have threatened to hurt Sherry in order to get him to cooperate. At the very least, she would take that as confirmation that the young girl was still alive and well. And she took some comfort in knowing that Leon would do everything he could to protect her.

Just before Leon left the room, he seemed to look right at her. She knew it was impossible, but that didn't stop her from calling out his name. 

She heard Alexia's soft laughter in her ear as she began thrashing about in earnest. Her gaze remained locked on her brother as he was left alone in the room. She could see him coming toward the window, looking at it intently. She found herself holding her breath as she saw him place a hand against the glass, and jerked back in surprise when he struck it with his fist.

The sound of another person's laughter from behind her caught Claire by surprise. She tried to turn around, unnerved by the idea that someone else had been standing there all this time and she hadn't realized it.

"I can certainly see the family resemblance." A man suddenly emerged from the back of the room, coming forward to stand between the two women. He leaned down and grinned at Claire. "You both have foul mouths."

Claire looked up at him, recognizing him instantly. "Albert Wesker. Gee, what a surprise to find you here."

His smile broadened as he turned to look at Alexia. She reached a hand up and cupped his cheek, her cool gaze warming momentarily. "I do believe Mr. Redfield is addressing you."

Wesker shifted his gaze toward the window. "Yeah, well, Chris and I have already had our reunion." He glanced at Claire briefly before turning his attention back to Alexia. "Besides, this is your show, darling." He leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips.

"You're both fucking sick, you know that?" Claire spat. 

Wesker grabbed Claire roughly by her chin, pulling her head up as he pressed his face in close to hers. "You're just lucky that I have other things to occupy my time, little girl." He smiled menacingly, taking a moment to savor the look of fear and defiance in the young woman's eyes. His gripped tightened as turned her face toward the window, whispering in her ear with unsuppressed hatred. "Keep you eyes peeled, bitch, cause the show is about to start."

Claire turned her attention back to her brother, just as he spoke her name.

***

"Claire?" Chris turned to find his sister standing only a few feet away. He looked about in confusion. "How did you…are you alright?" He studied her for a moment, a feeling of immense relief washing over him. Thankfully, she appeared to be unharmed.

The young brunette did not respond.

Chris frowned. "Claire?" He took a step toward her as he narrowed his eyes. "That bastard didn't hurt you, did he?"

She merely smiled at him and shook her head.

He cast an unsure grin. Something was wrong. He took another step and reached his hand out to her. The young woman extended her own hand, clasping his firmly. Chris stared at her for a moment, his instincts screaming a warning that he couldn't quite understand. He tightened his grip. "Where's Sherry?"

She suddenly released her hold on him and took a step back.

"Claire?" Chris watched her intently as she started backing away from him. "What's wrong?"

The brunette continued to put more distance between them as her hand slipped behind her back.

***

"Alexia, don't do this!" Claire pleaded, watching the scene unfold before her. "It's not his fault. He wasn't even there when Alfred died!"

The blonde's gaze remained fixed on the window. "Guilt by association."

"But…" Claire struggled desperately to break free. "But, he's all the family I have!"

Alexia gave Claire a look of pure venom. "Then soon, you'll have none."

***

"What is wrong with you?" Chris questioned. "Why won't you talk to me?" The young woman brought her hand out from behind her back. He stared at the object she held in her hand, convinced his mind must be playing tricks on him.

She was holding a gun…and it was pointing at him.

"Claire," he whispered. 

***

Albert Wesker was grinning from ear to ear. He'd always thought of Chris Redfield as nothing but a smartass punk, and now he was getting the chance to watch him get what was coming to him. And by his own sister, no less.

Well, sort of…

But, the idea that Chris would think it was his sister putting an end to his miserable little existence was just too rich. The entire spectacle taking place right in front of him was about to come to a thrilling conclusion. The only thing missing was the popcorn.

So, it was a bit of a surprise when he heard a knock at the door. Alexia spun around and glared at him. He gave her an apologetic look.

"I'll take care of it," he soothed. The last thing he was expecting was an interruption. But, he thought it must be important, or his people wouldn't be bothering him. 

As he reached for the door handle, he kept one eye on the window, not wanting to miss the crucial moment. He smiled cruelly as he heard Redfield's sister getting more hysterical, begging Alexia to put a stop to it all. He had to laugh at that. Asking Alexia Ashford for mercy was like asking a scorpion not to sting you…

It just wasn't in her nature.

Wesker was a bit lost in his own musings as he pulled the door open, which served to delay his unnaturally quick reflexes by a few precious seconds. That was all the time it took for the first bullet to strike him. His body's lack of response to the sudden intrusion only seemed to surprise him as several more shots rang out. He looked down at the holes in his chest, watching in detached fascination as his blood began to pour out of his body. 

He could feel his strength slipping away with each beat of his heart. Through blurred eyes he watched the room grow dim as he slumped to the floor, seeing the flash of the gun's muzzle once more as his assailant pulled the trigger a final time. 

The last thing Albert Wesker saw was the angry visage of Leon S. Kennedy.

***

Chris Redfield had faced many terrors in his young life…too many. But, never had he felt the grip of fear clutching at his heart as it did now. This was unlike any nightmare he had ever faced before. 

The woman standing before him seemed like a stranger. But she wasn't.

It was Claire.

His baby sister.

The person he loved most in this world.

"What have they done to you?" he questioned.

The young brunette flashed another smile as she raised her weapon. "Let's just say I'm the new and improved Claire Louise Redfield and leave it at that. Okay, bro?" She tilted her head slightly, using her free hand to brush the hair away from her forehead. Her smile fell as she steadied herself and squeezed the trigger.

Chris felt the first shot hit him squarely in the chest, the force of it causing him to take a few steps back. As the second bullet entered his stomach he felt his legs give out and he slowly dropped to his knees. The third bullet pierced his shoulder, and he spun with the impact, hitting the floor with a sickening thud.

***

Oooo…evil cliffhanger. Well, people, all I can say is…Leon shot Wesker! Yay! Happy New Year!

*Phew* I just had to get that off my chest. 

Also, I'm sure plenty of you are familiar with the old story about the scorpion and the turtle (to which I will attribute Wesker's thoughts about Alexia), but if not, send me an email and I'll tell you the story (around a virtual campfire, if you prefer). 

So, there are only a couple of chapters left, and I will do my best to churn them out asap. I know the updates are a bit sporadic, but I would like to see a few more reviews. Come on, readers, let me hear it. 

And to those faithful readers/reviewers, I extend my heartfelt thanks.

Happy Holidays, folks!


	22. This Collision

**Sacrifices**

Chapter 22: This Collision

Screaming…

It was the first thing that reached Leon's ears as the gunshots echoes began to fade. He could tell it was more than one voice, and both were female. One sounded foreign, almost like a wailing moan. But, the other was frighteningly familiar.

Claire.

He tore his gaze from the dead body lying at his feet. Alexia was already running toward him, her arms outstretched, a look of abject terror on her face. She didn't even seem to notice Leon as she dropped to her knees, hands hovering over her lover's bullet-riddled form.

The blonde's mouth hung open, disbelieving eyes wide with shock. "Albert," she moaned softly. "Oh, Albert…"

Leon stepped around the woman and hurried into the room, immediately spotting Claire, who was strapped to a chair, thrashing about, hysterically. He was so elated at seeing her alive that it took him a moment to even notice what was upsetting her so much.

What he saw through the glass stopped him in his tracks. His blue eyes widened in shock.

"Claire?"

Claire spun her head around at the sound of his voice. "Leon!" she shouted at him. "Get me out! Get me out! Please… oh my God, he's dying! Please!"

Her frantic cries managed to break his paralysis and he ran to her, his hands already working at the straps holding down her arms as he barraged her with questions. "Are you alright? What happened? Who is that?"

As soon as her right arm was free, she began working at her left. "My legs!" she screamed. "Get my legs!"

She was kicking so hard Leon had to forcefully hold her down in order to create enough slack to undo the restraints. As he freed one leg, she suddenly pushed him away and got up, practically dragging the chair with her as she fought to release the binding on her other leg. When it finally gave, she ran from the room, not even sparing a glance at Alexia, who still remained slumped over Wesker's body.

"Claire! Wait!" Leon scrambled to his feet and rushed after her.

* * *

Jill pressed her back to the wall, signaling to Barry with a motion of her hand. He came around the corner, weapon aimed at a point just beyond where his teammate stood, his other hand clamped firmly around the wrist of Dr. Lessing.

They heard gunfire only seconds ago and were now rapidly advancing toward the end of the corridor. It was difficult to tell exactly where the shots came from, but they were definitely close.

Barry positioned himself just behind Jill on the opposite wall and pushed down on the doctor's shoulder in a silent command for the man to crouch down to the floor. Robert complied without a word.

'Stay down' Barry mouthed to him. The doctor nodded in understanding.

According to Lessing, there were six rooms between their current location and his lab, which was beyond the double doors at the end of the hall. Jill made another gesture to Barry and he moved ahead, taking the right side, while she stayed to the left.

Less than thirty feet away, a figure suddenly emerged from one of the rooms, throwing the door open and running in the opposite direction.

Jill recognized the person instantly. "Claire!"

The young woman immediately stopped and turned around, a gun clutched, tightly, in her hand. Without a second thought, Jill started down the hall toward her, not even realizing that the brunette was raising her arm to take aim.

"Gun!"

Barry's voice boomed in the confined space and Jill reacted, instinctively, dodging toward the wall as a bullet grazed her upper arm. Two other shots missed their mark by inches before the figure turned and disappeared through the large steel doors.

Jill slumped against the wall, her left hand clamped against her right arm, eyes shut, tightly, against the pain as Barry and Robert appeared at her side.

"What the fuck?" Barry exclaimed. "What the hell is she doing shooting at us?"

The doctor pulled Jill's hand away, his practiced, experienced fingers already probing through the bloody tear in her sleeve before she had a chance to object. She started to squirm when he made contact with the wound.

"Hold still," he admonished.

"She must not have realized it was us," Jill answered in a strained voice.

"How bad is it?" Barry directed his question to Lessing.

"Just a flesh wound," the man replied as he quickly ripped the fabric of her shirt to expose the injury.

Jill looked at Barry. "I'm fine. Go after her."

His expression was grim as he pulled a Colt Python from inside his vest and stuck it in her left hand. "You won't need as much accuracy with this. Just point it and shoot at whatever stupid motherfucker gets in your way."

She offered him a weak smile. "Watch yourself."

"Ditto." He gave her a quick wink and turned to Robert. "Leave her and I'll kill you. Got it?"

"Yes," he replied, nervously. "Yes, of course." Without another word, the burly man turned away from them and ran down the hallway, quickly disappearing through the double doors in pursuit.

Robert worked, adeptly, using the ripped material in his hands and fashioning a makeshift dressing to try and stop the bleeding. When he pulled the pieces taut he could feel Jill's body tense up, and immediately offered her a look of apology.

"This will help until I can bandage it properly."

She barely waited for him to finish before she straightened up, wincing as she tried to tighten her grip on the Beretta still clutched in her right hand.

"Thanks, Doctor."

A woman's agonized cry suddenly cut through the silence. The sound came from just ahead of them, most likely the room from where Claire had emerged only a moment ago.

Jill made the decision in the blink of an eye.

"Here," she said, sticking her gun in Robert's hand. "You might need this."

"What?" He looked down the hall as Jill lifted Barry's parting gift to her and cocked it with her thumb, chambering a round.

"If you see fit to run there's little I can do to stop you," Jill stated matter-of-factly, her dark, brown eyes catching his panic-stricken blue ones. "But, right now, someone else might need you. So, are you going to run, or are you going to help?"

The young doctor stared at the foreign object in his hand. He had never fired a gun in his life. "I…I don't know how to-"

Jill calmly moved the barrel aside with the tip of her finger. "Like the man said, just point and shoot. Only not at me, alright?" With that, she started moving down the corridor again, her weapon poised in readiness, hoping that Robert Lessing was every bit as frightened as he seemed to be.

Otherwise, she'd just handed him the perfect opportunity to take her out.

* * *

"Are you sure this is it?"

Carlos glanced over his shoulder at Rebecca, whose face was grim and tense. He hadn't known her for very long, but he was certain that the look of determination in her eyes was completely genuine.

"It looks like it," he replied. "When Leon packed up our supplies there was enough C4 in here to choke a herd of elephants."

"This is crazy," Dick muttered from his position at the back of the group as they entered a darkened storage area, now one floor up from the lab where Rebecca made her gruesome discovery. "How are we supposed to get everyone out and blow this place up at the same time?"

"I don't know," the young medic answered honestly. "But, we have to destroy those abominations."

Dick shot her a skeptical look. "I still find it a little hard to believe that those… _things_ are actually alive. I mean, come on-"

Rebecca spun around, suddenly, the shake in her voice betraying her anger and desperation. "You haven't seen what I've seen, Dick! And you don't know the horrific things Umbrella is capable of!"

"This is not Umbrella," he stated calmly.

She dropped her gaze for a moment, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. Dick meant well, but he couldn't possibly comprehend the magnitude of what they were up against. Sadly, she didn't know if anyone ever could. "If Albert Wesker and Alexia Ashford are behind all of this, it may as well be."

"This is insane," Dick sighed. "How can stuff like this be happening right under everyone's noses?"

Rebecca's expression was unreadable as she lifted her head to look at him. "Because, no one wants to believe it," she said softly.

Carlos put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, I already told you, I can take care of this. The two of you need to get the girls out of here."

"We can't leave without Claire," Sherry interjected.

"Or Jill," Dick added.

"Or my Mommy!"

At the sound of Christina's plea, Carlos realized he still hadn't had a chance to tell his companions about her mother. Unfortunately, now was neither the time nor the place. "Don't worry. I'll make sure we have time to get everyone out. But, we can't help anyone else until the kids are out of here."

Sherry folded her arms across her chest and stared at the floor, looking utterly miserable. "I'm not the one that needs to be rescued."

"I agree," Carlos said with a slight grin. "In fact, you were doing just fine when I caught up with you. But, a lot of bad things are gonna start happening, and I want you both as far from here as possible when it does, comprende?"

"Carlos is right," Rebecca interjected. "We need to get you two out. Now." She glanced back at the elevator and released a weary sigh. "Christina, is this the only way to get back up to the ground level?"

"For grown-ups."

The medic gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

The little girl pointed up at the ceiling. "There's lots of tunnels everywhere, but they're small… like, only kids could fit in them."

"Tunnels?" Dick pondered as he glanced up. "Do you mean air ducts?"

The little girl shrugged. "I guess so."

"Makes sense," Carlos commented. "With all this underground space, they have to get air down here."

Rebecca's eyes began searching, frantically, scanning the walls and ceiling for an opening. She caught a glimpse of something high up on the far wall, disturbing the smooth, concrete surface. "Maybe up there."

Dick and Carlos followed her outstretched arm. The small group walked over to the other side of the room, where both men began moving a few items against the wall, forming a makeshift ladder. Since Rebecca was the lightest, and likely the most nimble, she scaled the table and boxes with ease.

"Jackpot," she called down as her fingers slid along the edge of a small metal grate embedded in the concrete. She removed a knife from her hip and jimmied the frame away from the wall. There were no screws holding it in, and with a generous amount of force, the dull, steel grille popped out, just missing the top of Dick's head as it fell to the floor with a loud clang.

"Good thing I have Jill's good luck charm on me," the older man commented.

"Sorry," Rebecca replied, looking down at him with a sheepish grin. She stuck her head in the small space. It was definitely a tight squeeze. She put an arm in and leaned forward, trying to judge the size of the interior. It seemed a bit wider on the inside, and with a grunt of effort, she found herself able to get her upper body in up to her waist.

"Well?"

The brunette's muffled voice wafted down to Carlos as he watched her, intently. "I think I could get through with the girls…" She suddenly reemerged, her upper body covered with dust and dirt. "But, without a roadmap who knows how long it could take?"

"Well, you're only looking to go up." The mercenary offered her a hand to help her down. "And right now this seems like the only way to avoid another hail of gunfire."

Rebecca dropped lightly down to the floor and nodded. "Unfortunately, I have to agree with you."

"I don't want to leave," Sherry pleaded. "Not without Claire."

"Sherry, honey, I know how you feel, but we can't-"

"No, you don't!" The young girl turned her face away, afraid to show the tears that were threatening to fall. She didn't want to cry in front of them. It made her feel like a child. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and she pulled away, refusing to be mollified.

"I promise you, Sherry, Carlos won't do anything until we're sure she's safe," Rebecca stated, her voice soft, yet firm. "But, we have to go."

Carlos felt a slight tug on his vest. He looked down to see Christina's vivid, green eyes fixed on him.

"Don't forget about my Mommy."

The young man's mouth suddenly went dry, and he just stood there for a moment, gazing down at the little girl. He didn't want to be the one to tell her she was now an orphan. It was so terribly unfair… and it was also hitting just a little too close to home.

"I won't," he finally said.

"Promise?"

Lifting his right index finger, he made an 'X' motion over his heart. Christina practically beamed at him.

"Come on," Dick prompted. "Let's get a move on. They'll probably show up here any minute."

Reluctantly, Sherry allowed Rebecca to lead her over to Carlos, who began to help her climb up to the airshaft. She quickly disappeared from view, only to reappear a few seconds later, reaching an arm down to pull Christina up.

Finally, Rebecca navigated her way up, pausing to look back down at the two men. "As soon as we get out, I'll call for reinforcements."

Dick eyed her, dubiously. "You really think the LAPD is gonna buy the whole "zombie madness" story?"

The brunette shrugged. "I'll just call in a bomb threat." With that, she disappeared into the shaft opening, her muffled voice echoing slightly as she called back to them, "Don't forget to cover our tracks."

"You got it," Carlos replied, then immediately climbed up and replaced the metal grate. He pressed it, firmly, back into place and whispered softly, "Hasta luego."

Dick and Carlos worked quickly to remove all signs of the girls' covert exit, and then returned to searching the room for the equipment Carlos would need in order to set the explosive charges in the lab below them.

After several minutes of tense silence, the young mercenary spoke up. "Okay, I'm ready to go." He took two small bags he'd found on a shelf and placed the necessary tools and equipment inside, then zipped it up. The other bag was already filled to capacity with enough soft-molded C4 to destroy the lab, the room they presently occupied, and probably all of the floors above them, as well.

"Isn't that a little much?" Dick remarked, looking at the other man's burden.

"Rebecca wants to be sure," Carlos explained, his face tight with tension. "And so do I."

"Right. Well, I'll leave you to it. I need to go find my kid." Dick headed for a nearby door, stopping to glance over his shoulder as Carlos walked back to the elevator. "Hey."

The young mercenary stopped and looked back at him. "Yeah?"

"Watch your step."

"Besa mi culo."

Dick grinned. "No big. I was in prison, remember?" He winked at Carlos and disappeared through the door.

Carlos sighed, wearily, and adjusted the bags in his hand. He couldn't believe he was doing this shit again.

Another lab full of monsters…

Another ticking clock…

Another day in the life of Carlos Oliveira.

* * *

_Yes, it's a real, honest to goodness update. I had good reason for dropping off the face of the earth, but I won't bore you with the details. Suffice it to say, I'm back to working on the story and have every intention of finishing it. And to all of the people that were nice enough to review it way back when, I'm sorry for leaving you hanging all this time, and I sincerely hope to make it worth the wait._


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